salemahn

[salemahn]

hold me? | c.l.

synopsis: in which he only wants you to hold him

a/n: based on this request!

my masterlist

It’s a quiet, overcast afternoon in Monaco, the kind where the skies seem to mirror the feelings of those under them. The rain has been falling steadily since morning, a soft patter against the windows filling the silence in your apartment. Normally, you’d find the sound soothing, but today it seems to add to the heaviness hanging in the air.

Charles has been uncharacteristically quiet all day. You noticed it during breakfast, where his usual playful banter was replaced with absent nods and distracted glances. He barely touched his coffee, something he never does, and the light in his eyes seemed dulled.

Now, he’s sprawled on the couch, wrapped in a blanket, scrolling aimlessly through his phone. His posture is slouched, and every now and then, he lets out a sigh that tugs at your heart.

From the kitchen, you watch him for a moment, your fingers curling around the warm mug of tea you made for him. You can tell he’s carrying something heavy, the kind of weight he’s too stubborn to share unless coaxed.

Taking a deep breath, you walk over and set the tea on the coffee table, then perch on the armrest of the couch beside him.

“Charles,” you call softly.

He glances up at you, his honey-brown eyes tired and unfocused.

“Hmm?”

You reach out to smooth the blanket over his lap, a small gesture of care.

“I brought you some tea,” you say gently, trying not to push too much too soon.

“Merci,” he murmurs, his voice quiet, almost flat.

He takes the mug but doesn’t drink, instead staring into the steam as if lost in thought.

You slip onto the couch beside him, leaning in so your knee brushes his.

“You’ve been quiet today,” you say carefully, not wanting to overwhelm him. “Do you want to talk about what’s on your mind?”

He hesitates, his lips parting before he shakes his head slightly. But the way his shoulders slump tells you he does—it’s just hard for him to find the words.

Gently, you place your hand on his arm, grounding him.

“It’s okay,” you assure him. “Take your time.”

He sighs, setting the tea back on the table before leaning back against the couch. His gaze fixes on the ceiling, and for a moment, the only sound is the rain outside.

“Racing has been... tough lately,” he finally admits, his voice heavy with frustration. “I feel like I’m not good enough. Like no matter how hard I try, it’s never enough. The mistakes, the pressure, the expectations, it’s all piling up.”

He pauses, running a hand through his hair.

“Sometimes I think... I’m letting everyone down. The team, the fans, even myself.”

Hearing the raw vulnerability in his voice makes your chest ache. You shift closer, sliding your arms around him without hesitation.

At first, he tenses, but then he melts into your embrace, his head finding its place on your shoulder.

“Charles,” you whisper, your fingers stroking through his soft curls, “you’re allowed to feel this way. You carry so much on your shoulders, and it’s okay to admit when it feels too heavy. But I need you to know that you’re not letting anyone down. Not your team, not your fans, and definitely not me.”

His arms wrap around your waist, pulling you closer. He holds you like he’s afraid to let go, his breath warm against your neck.

“You always know what to say,” he murmurs, his voice thick with emotion.

You pull back slightly, just enough to meet his gaze. His eyes are glistening, and there’s a vulnerability there that he rarely shows. Gently, you cup his face, brushing your thumb along his cheek.

“I know what to say because I see you,” you say softly. “Not just Charles Leclerc, the racing driver, but Charles, the person I love. You don’t have to be perfect for me. You’re enough, just as you are.”

A tear escapes, and he quickly swipes it away, giving you a small, grateful smile.

“I don’t know what I’d do without you,” he whispers.

You lean in, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead, lingering for a moment.

“Lucky for you, you’ll never have to find out,” you tease lightly, earning a soft chuckle from him.

For the rest of the afternoon, you stay like that, tangled together on the couch. At one point, he shifts to rest his head in your lap, and you run your fingers through his hair, gently massaging his scalp. He lets out a content sigh, his body fully relaxed for the first time in days.

When he drifts off to sleep, you stay still, watching the way his lips curve into the faintest smile. The rain outside begins to let up, but the calm in your heart remains, knowing that, for now, he’s at peace, and that you’ll always be there to help him find his way back to it.

No matter what.

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[salemahn]

Honeybee and Ladybug

Sebastian Vettel x Reader

Summary: The Grid Kids wonder why Seb and Reader decorate with Bees and Ladybugs. The answer? Jenson Button and Y/N is a sap. Seb just loves his wife.

Warnings: none that I can think of? There’s a tiny, skippable period joke ( as is customary to this blog)

Author’s Note: My first attempt at RPF! ( it took forever because I was being a chicken about it lol.) I was wanting to use “little ladybug” as a pet name in some sort of writing and the Jenson Button girlie in me said “ I have an idea!”

SECOND, MORE IMPORTANT AUTHOR’S NOTE: This fic is heavily inspired by the lovely @pucksandpower and her ADORABLE Grid Kids series. ( particularly Gentlemen: A Short View Back To The Past) I did change the reader’s past occupation Go read her series, it is the cutest thing ever and you will giggle the whole way through!

Onward to the fic!

*****

“ Mom?” Lance said as Y/N sat back down on the couch, watching as she pulled the little pillow into her lap and held it close.

“ What’s up babydoll?” She replied, smiling as he leaned in toward her from his spot in the floor. There were plenty of chairs, she noticed again as she ran her fingers through his hair, yet he always seemed to prefer the floor. She suspected it had to do with being able to stretch out and move around, as Georgie and Lando sometimes did the same.

“ This is not me saying I don’t like it, it’s very cute,” Lance began and Max chuckled, mumbling something along the lines of “This should be interesting.”

“ What’s with the insects theme in your decorating?” As if to prove his point he gestured to the little pillow she held, which was embroidered with a little bumble bee and a lady bug.

Now that the rest of the boys thought about it, they were sort of everywhere. Canisters in the kitchen for Seb’s coffee and Y/Ns tea were a honey bee and ladybug respectively. There were nature photographs of the two on the bathroom walls. Charles remembered the guest room being all done up in bees and ladybugs too. Y/N had a vent clip in her car that was a sparkly ladybug. The key hanger by the door was a pair of flowers and she and Seb had matching key chains of the two insects that slotted into place to light on the flowers. Her favorite blanket, old and worn out by now, the one she wrapped around them all whenever they were feeling overwhelmed, had ladybugs on it too.

“It’s not just insects though Lance,” Mick pointed out.

“ It’s always bees and ladybugs,” said Lando, then the realization seemed to dawn in his eyes, “ Wait, do they represent you and Seb?”

“ Yep,” she replied, smiling fondly at her husband.

“ Aaaw, that’s cute!” George cooed.

“ I get the bees for Seb, everyone does that, but why are you a ladybug?” Charles piped up.

“ Haven’t you guys ever heard Jenson call her “ his little ladybug”?” Max asked, making air quotes around the phrase and mimicking the retiree’s voice.

There was a chorus of laughter at that.

“ You boys up for a story?”

****

“ Why do you always wear dresses to media days?” Jenson asked, looking her up and down in confusion. She was in a short dress, tight at the top and flowy at the skirt, and a simple pair of black heels. Her hair was back, the ends curled and adorned with a large blue bow that matched the dress. She had on pink lipstick. Every media day she showed up looking like this put together little lady, it kind of drove him insane.

“ I just like them. I like feeling pretty.” She replied simply, shrugging her shoulders.

“ You like making me look bad is what it is,” Jenson laughed, gesturing to his jeans and team kit.

The next morning when she walked in for quali day in a red dress with black polka dots Jenson rolled his eyes. Tossing an arm over her shoulder he cheerily announced, “ Good morning my little ladybug. Let’s get a 1-2 today, yeah?”

Y/N giggled a little too much for Sebastian’s liking, leaning into the touch, the bridge of her nose turning pink as she mumbled something like “ That’s always the goal, isn’t it?”

Sebastian hated the little schoolgirl, hero worship crush Y/N didn’t seem to realize she was harboring for her teammate and mentor.

Looking up to him he’d understand. He’s older and more experienced, he looks up to him too. But Jenson is also Jenson Button. Tall, charming, conventionally attractive, but a known playboy and flirt. Sebastian thinks Y/N deserves better than to fall for all that.

***

“ Oh shut up, I did not,” Y/N says, blushing.

“ You definitely did, love.” Seb’s grin has the boys giggly too, “ Does it help knowing I was very jealous?”

“ A little bit,” she concedes, still blushing, leaning into Seb’s side earning Aws and coos from several of the boys.

“ The crush only lasted about half a season, but the name stuck.”

“ And spread like wildfire through the paddock,” Y/N agreed.

****

In Brazil when they did Secret Santa she smiled as she read the little note.

To our little ladybug, since you’re always cold.

“ Oh I love it!” She said, running her fingers over the ladybug adorned blanket. “Seb look, it’s so cute and so fuzzy!”

“ It is.” He said.

She giggled again, then on impulse “ like your hair,” she said, messing it up to make him turn that adorable shade of pink.

They missed the fond smiles they were getting from Micheal and Mark.

****

“ Then half the grid picked it up.”

“ You boys have probably heard more than Jenson use it, just without the possessive marker so you didn’t notice. It used to irk me that he said my with it.” The word sounds icy in Seb’s mouth even now.

“ It was just his name for me originally. Was someone a little possessive, hm?” Y/N teased.

“ Absolutely,” Seb replied, with no shame, “ I did not like anyone else trying to claim my girl.” This gets more giggles and a wolf whistle out of the boys.

�� We weren’t together yet honey,” Y/N said, confused smile on her face.

“ Liebe, I was pining long before you knew.”

Mick, George, Charles, and Lando all awed some more.

“ Like a bee for pollen?” Max joked to a chorus of groans.

“ Actually I do think I’ve heard Nando say it,” Lance said, remembering how Alonso had pecked her on the cheek last time she’d been in the paddock with a “ Hola Ladybug.”

“ Rosberg too,” agreed Charles.

“ And Webber,” Lando added.

“ Lewis too,” George and Mick said at the same time, recalling multiple “ hey there Ladybug! Missed you”s whenever she entered the Mercedes garage.

“ It was cute till Jense devolved it,” Y/N said with a fond eye-roll.

“ Devolved?” Mick asked, peering up at them like a confused puppy.

Seb just laughed.

“ Oh please, you still adored it. He just wanted to have his own special nickname for you.”

“ But I swear it was like he forgot my actual name for a whole season!”

“ That’s true, everything was Bug.” Seb conceded.

“ Easy on the breaks in turn 4, Bug.” She said in a dramatic but better than Max’s impression of the former world champion. “ Where are you going, Bug? Stop staring, Bug. Focus, Bug. Bit understeery today, Bug.”

“ Oi! You’re bleeding, Bug.” Seb added with a chuckle.

“ Oh I about killed him for that! Could you yell it a bit louder Jense? I don’t think the Ferrari garage in Albert Park heard you!”

“ Oo,” George winced, he and Max the only two who seemed to understand. Y/N just laughed.

“ Really though, every sentence. Why’s your hair down, Bug? Ask him out already, Bug! We’re gonna get a 1-2 today, Bug!”

“ Then I made one comment about Bees dying off.”

“ And I called you Honey, exactly one time, and Micheal ran with it.”

“ Honey Bee and Ladybug.” Seb squeezed her shoulders, “ and the rest is history.”

[salemahn]

The next one.

Cregan Stark x wife!reader

Summary: Cregan returns home after months away, reuniting with his wife and children.

Warnings: innuendos and sexual comments between a husband and wife.

Masterlist

............................................

"My lady, Lord Stark has returned. He is leading the men through the gates now."

She nearly dropped everything in her hand. 

Cregan had been gone for far too long it seemed, and finally the North was getting their Warden back. 

More importantly, she was getting her husband back.

She ran past the servant, practically sprinting through to the main doors. 

When she saw Cregan proudly leading his men, she didn't stop to let him come to her. 

Cregan's face lit up in joy at the sight of his wife running to him. Before she even neared, he was throwing his leg over his horse to dismount. 

He braced himself and caught her, the feeling of her against him relighting the spark that had begun to fade in his heart from such a long time away from home. The smell of her hair calmed him. 

The men that chuckled were few, understanding the feeling of returning to a wife. 

Cregan had to practically pry her away to even get to look her in the eye. "How I've longed for you, woman."

She all but melted in his hold, her face held between his two large hands. "Cregan, you must know-"

"-Whatever it is, it can wait," he smiled. "For now, I reunite with my one." He looked over his shoulder to his men. "The war is won. Now reclaim your homes and your wives!"

There was a loud cheer that washed over the men like waves. They all slowly dissipated, each going to their respected homes.

Her fingers brushed up and down Cregan's wrist, awaiting his next words as if he commanded her to breathe. 

"Tell me, pretty girl. Did you miss your lord?"

"Dreadfully," she admitted with a pitiful whine.

"Aye. Thought so." He spun her, her back now pressed firmly against his chest. He let his hands explore her as he spoke in her ear. "Tell me how dreadfully my beautiful girl missed me. Tell me how you managed along without me. How much this cunt missed me. My mere touch runs your breath ragged." His hand grazed over her most intimate parts through her skirt, causing a red to come over her face. "And my children, how you've raised them s-"

"PAPA!"

Cregan's hand fell to a more appropriate area on her waist, but his attention on his wife was lost once he recognized the voice.

His little Arya.

She ran with a wobble to her step still, only being four. But the brightness in her eyes at the sight of her father's return made his heart soar. 

How she had grown in his few months away. 

He scooped her up, tossing her into the air and catching her with ease. The two giggled together as they connected, a scratchy kiss placed on her cheek from the burly man. "My perfect girl! Have you been good for your mother?"

Her big bright eyes held the Stark mischief to them, and she shook her head with a knowing cheeky grin.

He feigned dropping her, catching her with ease with one hand and beginning to tickle her with the other. Loud shrieks of laughter came from the small girl.

Prompting Rickon to join them.

Rickon was older, going on five. Despite only being a year older, he held himself with high esteem, carrying the Stark name with the same pride as his father.

He faked the stern face, but all knew deep inside that he was just as excited to see Cregan. 

He came to Y/n's awaiting arms, leaning his head against her stomach as the two watched Cregan finish his reunion with Arya. He held her up with one hand and acknowledged his boy. "Rickon." The once joyous tone with Arya dissipated to a firm one. He bent down to Rickon's level, putting a heavy hand to his shoulders. "You have kept them safe. My little lord of Winterfell. Well done." His hand affectionately patted the boy's cheek.

Arya squirmed and pulled from Cregan's arms, now hiding in her mother's skirt.

Cregan stood with a small groan to his aching muscles. "But I have missed you most," he clarified to his wife, now giving his full attention back to her.

"More than Jonnel?" Arya asked with a peek around the skirt.

Cregan's brows came together, looking to his wife for clarification.

"Cregan, we must talk," Y/n tried again.

"Wh-" He felt a small anger in him rise.

"You left me all those moons ago with child!" She clarified. "A boy."

His face dropped and soon a disbelieving smile replaced it. "A-A boy? Another boy?"

She nodded. "He's perfect."

"You've given me another?" He still asked in shock.

"Now two moons old." A smile grin plastered to her face, "I don't think I've seen a more northern babe in all my days."

Cregan stared at his wife like she'd said the most profound thing that even the greatest philosophers could not think of. 

Then a large smile took over his features. "Let us see this babe!" He scooped up Arya and guided Rickon by his shoulder, Y/n following behind them.

As he walked through the Winterfell halls, she took notes of the small differences in him. His hair was now much longer than before, his beard grown in some- signs that he may have tried to keep it trimmed at the beginning of the journey then gave up. Most noticeable was his stance.

Cregan Stark had now seen war, and the very essence of him screamed it.

How tired he must be. And still, he finds the energy for his little family.

He almost busted down the door to the nursery, forgetting himself and frightening the maid within. She excused herself under her breath.

Y/n watched Cregan bring his children to the side of the small crib. His eyes practically glowed as he took in the sight of little babe.

"Jonnel," he whispered. "It suits him."

"I liked Torrhen," Y/n mentioned from behind him, now approaching and wrapping her arms around him. "But he's more of a Jonnel."

"There's always the next one," he chirped, smirking when he knew his wife turned a bright shade of red.

"Rickon, Arya, off you go," she waved them off, "Your papa will see you at dinner." When Arya opened her mouth to complain, a small look from her mother made her go.

"You didn't notice the changes in me?" Y/n finally asked as the two lovers stared over the child. "You always used to say you knew my body better than I."

"I noticed," he admitted. "The way your breasts have swollen in my absence, yes, I noticed." He reached down, brushing a finger over the child's cheek. "Though I did not know if it was from a child and I would not embarrass you in that way."

Warmth moved from her cheeks down to her stomach. Her husband's words had a deep effect on her. She stood on the tips of her toes, nipping at the northman's ear. "The next one, you said?"

A deep rumble of a chuckle came from him and he finally spun to look at her. "Aye." He brushed hair from her face. "I plan to fill you with children until you tell me to stop."

She giggled and feigned offense as Cregan kissed at her jaw. "Am I just a broodmare to you?"

He pulled away, grabbing her jaw and pulling her in. "You're my wife. I will love you until you tell me to stop. In all the ways a man loves a woman."

"And if I don't want you to stop?" She tested, a whisper across his lips.

His gaze flickered down to her lips and back. "Then I won't."

She looked down at the babe, "I don't feed him for another hour or so-"

She could barely finish her sentence before Cregan picked her up and took her to their chamber.

Cregan Stark had seen war, but he didn't let it seep into the walls of his home.

........................................

Taglist: @twinkletwinklenotastar@kidd3ath @yujyujj@misswynters@cosmosnkaz@sithapprentice@kaniromi@lovemesomevesey@its-jackie-bb@thorins-queen-of-erebor@kingdomzeldaquest@nyxbranwenn@callsignwidow@a1lexh-blog@alyssa-dayne @ethereal-athalia @ashovertheriver @lost-in-fiction-like-ur-mom @dozcan123 @wangjiangelangel @kamitargaryen @aegonswife @lv7867@helpmedecideaname @cherryheairt @classicsimpforaaronwarner

[salemahn]

Hi babes how are you?? can you write something with jade thirlwall as your face claim please? Thanks❤❤

the great escape - cl16

summary: the final race of the f1 calendar and yn's final show of her world tour are happening the same day. will charles make it on time?

folkie radio: I CAN'T BELIEVE THE SEASON IS OVER. WHAT ARE WE GOING TO DO UNTIL MARCH??? anyway, this is 100% inspired by the final race and the final eras tour show happening during the same day and i hope you like it!

MASTERLIST | MY PATREON

liked by charles_leclerc, arianagrande and 2,820,604 others

yourinstagram seattle you were UNREAL tonight! the energy was everything and more! this lifetimes world tour has been the journey of my dreams 🌟 thank you for making every single show so special!

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username1 BEST GIRL EVER

username2 THE SHOW WAS AMAZING

charles_leclerc You were incredible mon amour ❤️ The way you light up that stage... Proud doesn't even begin to cover it

↳ username1 CHARLIEEE

↳ username2 he’s such a simp

↳ username3 i need my man to hype me up like this

lewishamilton Killed it as always 🔥

username4 THE WAY CHARLES ALWAYS COMMENTS FIRST ON HER POSTS I CAN'T 😭

username5 anyone else notice he's been liking her posts exactly 1 minute after they're uploaded? 👀

username6 missing the days when they tried to hide their relationship now they're just being cute everywhere

username7 TOUR OF THE DECADE

bellahadid mother 😍😍

username8 SOMEONE TELL ME HOW TO PROCESS THE "mon amour" COMMENT

username9 charles watching from Monaco at 4am again we see

username10 I CANT BELIEVE THIS TOUR IS COMING TO AN END

liked by maxverstappen1, yourinstagram and 1,765,499 others

charles_leclerc A Sunday I’ll forever remember 🇮🇹❤️

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username1 FORZAAAA CHARLES

username2 and that's how you do it

arthur_leclerc ❤️

username3 THE KING OF MONZA FOREVER

username4 SO DESERVED

username5 uughh sucks that yn couldn't be there

landonorris Well done mate!

username6 just missing his girl i'm crying

username7 did anyone else catch him grabbing his phone as soon as he stepped off the podium? probably calling yn

username8 THE CHAMPIONSHIP IS POSSIBLE

yourinstagram YES YES YES ! so proud of you babyyyy 🥺

username9 someone reunite yn and charles asap i can't do this

username10 THAT WINNER GLOW

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

liked by username1, username2 and 41,927 others

f1gossip CHARLES LECLERC SPOTTED IN NASHVILLE!

Man really flew straight from Austin → Mexico→ Brazil and then to Nashville all in 15 days just to see YN perform! Talk about a supportive boyfriend

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username1 I LOVE HIM SM

username2 Bro finished P3 in Mexico, P1 in Austin and instead of resting he's here... that's love

username3 ferrari's physio is having a breakdown watching this

username4 the way he's been to 13 shows this tour despite racing... abu dhabi to vegas doesn't seem impossible anymore 👀

username5 he really said "sleep is for the weak"

username6 HES SO IN LOVE

username7 using his days off to fly across the world to see her... meanwhile I can't get a text back

username8 such a fanboy

username9 they need to get married idc

username10 im going to be devastated if he doesn’t make it to the final show

liked by username1, username2 and 39,605 others

ynupdates "So, um, funny story about this next song... I wrote it after watching someone very special to me race in Monaco last year. He crashed his Ferrari, which was absolutely terrifying by the way. But afterward, he just looked at me and said 'At least I looked cool doing it, no?' And somehow that turned into 'Reckless Driving'... which, Charles, I know you're back there trying to hide under your hoodie, but you're still not forgiven for that crash." -YN in Nashville tonight

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username1 his face was SO RED

username2 ot Charles trying to sink into his seat when she mentioned Monaco 💀

username3 I LOVE ONE COUPLE

username4 the way he still gets shy every time she mentions him on stage even though they've been together for 2 years 🥺

username5 charles collecting tour moments like infinity stones... Abu Dhabi to Vegas IS happening guys

username6 "you're still not forgiven" MA'AM YOU WROTE A WHOLE SONG ABOUT IT

username7 THE WAY PIERRE WAS JUST POINTING AND LAUGHING AT HIM

username8 he's been to so many shows and still blushes every time she mentions him I can't 😭

username9 the fact that one of her biggest hits came from him crashing a Ferrari... iconic

username10 I LOVE THEM SOOO BAD

liked by yourinstagram, lewishamilton and 2,033,765 others

charles_leclerc Ready for the final push. Been an incredible season so far... but the best moments have been watching you shine @/yourinstagram❤️

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username1 CHARLIEEEE

username2 this is so cute

yourinstagram the best cheerleader in the paddock ❤️ (even when you're half asleep from jet lag)

↳ username1 AWEEEE

↳ username2 i love them so bad

carlossainz55 Focus on the championship... then we plan the great escape 🏃‍♂️

↳ username1 THE FACT THAT THEY’RE ALREADY PLANNING

username3 THE TENSION IS KILLING US WILL HE MAKE IT TO THE FINAL SHOW OR NOT

scuderiaferrari Eyes on the prize🏆

username4 anyone else tracking flights from abu dhabi to vegas just in case? no? just me?

username5 man's about to break the sound barrier trying to get to that show

landonorris Better start practicing those quick pit stop exits mate

username6 not me already emotional thinking about if he makes it 😭

username7 the way he hasn't confirmed or denied if he's going to make it... the STRESS

username8 time zones are just a social construct anyway

username9 I LOVE ONE FAIRYTALE COUPLE

username10 this duo is the best thing that happened

liked by charles_leclerc, dualipa and 2,509,578 others

yourinstagram 161 shows. 89 cities and somehow it still feels like yesterday when we opened in tokyo. to every single person who's been part of this lifetimes world journey - my heart is so full. these last few shows are going to be extra special ✨🌟

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username1 IM CRYING

username2 IF WE COULD ONLY TURN BACK TIME

charles_leclerc Still remember when you were so nervous before that first show in Tokyo... now look at you. La mia stella ⭐️

↳ yourinstagram i love you

taylorswift The most magical tour! So proud of you 🥺✨

pierregalsy @/charles_leclerc remember when you made us watch the Tokyo livestream in the simulator room? 😂

username3 NOT ME CRYING AT 3AM READING THIS

username4 LIFETIMES TOUR FOREVER 🌟

username5 still can't believe she changed her entire tour schedule to avoid clashing with race weekends... except the last show 😭

scuderiaferrari Looking forward to getting our garage singer back after tour ends

username6 the most supportive F1 boyfriend despite the insane schedules... we love to see it

username7 TOUR OF THE DECADE

sabrinacarpenter most perfect girl ever 💘

username8 that last show is going to make us all weep

username9 I CANT BELIEVE I WAS PART OF THIS

username10 if charles doesn’t make it to her last show istg

liked by username1, username2 and 43,758 others

f1gossip SPOTTED: YN in the Vegas paddock supporting Charles before tonight's race! Sources say she's been here since Thursday's practice sessions 👀

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username1 POWER COUPLE

username2 they’re so hot

username3 she's been to every practice session... meanwhile charles calculating flight times to her final show 👀

username4 ferrari PR trying to handle both of them being extra cute in the paddock 😂

username5 THE WAY SHE FIXES HIS HELMET BEFORE EVERY SESSION 🥺

username6 taking a break from tour rehearsals to support her man... we love to see it

username7 the way she knows all the Ferrari crew by name now 🥺

username8 both of their face cards create a face economy

username9 IT COUPLE FOREVER

username10 i love yn at the paddock

liked by username1, username2 and 42,038 others

charlesupdates “I mean... if I have to sprint from the car in Abu Dhabi still in my race suit, that's what I'll do. Some things are more important than post-race protocols, no? Fred might kill me but... I've watched her grow so much during this tour, and I'm not missing that final show. I'll figure it out.” -Charles about the final race taking place the same day of his girlfriend’s final show!

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username1 AHHHH

username2 this is so cute

username3 translation: I already have 3 different backup plans and a private jet on standby

username4 THE WAY HE JUST OPENLY ADMITTED HE'S PLANNING TO DITCH POST-RACE 😭

username5 "Some things are more important than post-race protocols" STOP IM CRYING

username6 Charles "I'll break every FIA rule for my girl" Leclerc

username7 man's really about to set a new record for fastest post-race exit

username8 remember when they tried to be subtle about their relationship? now he's planning a great escape on live tv😭

username9 YUP IM CRYING OVER THIS

username10 best couple ever fr

liked by charles_leclerc, arianagrande and 2,879,044 others

yourinstagram vegas race weekend dump 🏎️❤️ from trying (and failing) to understand strategy meetings to @/pierregasly teaching me proper radio etiquette... might have to come to more races if the view is this good 😌 now off to the final shows ! see you tomorrow night philly 🌟

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username1 ICONICCCC

username2 queen of the paddock actually

scuderiaferrari Our favorite honorary team member ❤️

username3 we need her at every race actually

username4 from selling out arenas to falling asleep in F1 strategy meetings... we love a versatile queen

username5 the way the whole team has adopted her though 😭

adele Gorgeous ✨✨

carlossainz55 Those strategy ideas weren't bad actually... 🤔

username6 living for boyfriend charles content

username7 pierre and yn’s friendship tho

francisca.cgomes miss youuuu🤍

username8 NOW CHARLES NEEDS TO MAKE IT TO HER FINAL SHOW

username9 i’ve died dead

charles_leclerc Love you mon amour ❤️

username10

username11 "might have to come to more races" PLEASE DO 😭

username12 that helmet pic is giving "take your girlfriend to work day" energy

username13 he fact that she changed her final show time to match the potential race end time... we see you 👀

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liked by charles_leclerc, yourinstagram and 1,027,847 others

pierregasly Practicing the escape route for Abu Dhabi -> Vegas next week. Current time to beat: plane to venue in 2 hours 37 minutes.

The things my boy does for love @/charles_leclerc 🏃‍♂️✈️

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username1 I CANT DO THISSSS

username2 bffs i love them

charles_leclerc You're the best getaway driver a man could ask for 🫡

yourinstagram not you two literally timing his sprints through the plane... i can't with you both 😭❤️

username3 THE WAY THEY'RE PLANNING THIS LIKE AN OCEAN'S 11 HEIST

lewishamilton Helicopter already fueled up boys

username4 pierre really said "professional racer AND escape route planner"

username5 this friendship>>>

username6 bestie behavior is planning your friend's cross-continental love sprint

landonorris you both are mental 😂😂

username7 pierre "i will get this man to his girl" gasly strikes again

scuderiaferrari Preparing the great escape as we speak

username8 friendship is when your bro times your airport sprints

username9 pierre taking "wing man" to new heights fr fr

username10 THIS IS REALLY SERIOUS

francisca.cgomes Partners in crime 😭

username11 I NEED THIS IN MY LIFE

username12 long live piarles

liked by yourinstagram, carlossainz55 and 2,038,368 others

charles_leclerc One more race. Then Vegas calling 👀✈️

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username1 IM SEATED

username2 i can’t believe this season is coming to an end

pierregasly Your bag is already in Vegas btw. Yes I packed the good cologne 😌

↳ username1 pierre is the best wingman ever

carlossainz55 My media training about to come in clutch tomorrow covering for you 🏃‍♂️

↳ username2 the way the entire paddock is just helping out

maxverstappen1 Plane's fueled up mate. Just say when

username3 OPERATION GET CHARLES TO VEGAS IS A GO!!!!11!!

username4 NOT ME TRACKING 27 DIFFERENT FLIGHTS FROM ABU DHABI TO VEGAS RN 😭😭

username5 the way this man bout to break the land speed record getting to that airport HELP

username6 HE BETTER MAKE IT OR WE RIOTING FR FR

username7 the whole paddock helping him escape is giving romance movie of the year idc idc

username8 NOT NOW GUYS IM CALCULATING TIME ZONES AND FLIGHT PATHS 📝😤

username9 the way he planned his whole race weekend around making this show... boyfriend of the year???

username10 imagine being so whipped you plan an intercontinental sprint... we love to see it 😭

yourinstagram break a leg baby ❤️ (but like... not literally bc you need to run fast tomorrow)

liked by charles_leclerc, madisonbeer and 3,674,033 others

yourinstagram 24 hours until the final lifetimes show. still can't believe we're here. to everyone who's been part of this journey - my heart is so full it might burst. vegas, let's make this one special ✨

(yes i'm wearing his jacket for good luck don't @ me)

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username1 I CANT BELIEVE ITS OVER

username2 man im going to cry

username3 NOT ME TRACKING EVERY PRIVATE JET FROM ABU DHABI RN 😭😭

charles_leclerc that jacket's never looked better mon coeur. see you soon 🏃‍♂️✈️

↳ username1 SOMEONE CHECK IF HIS RACE IS DONE YET PLS

username4 THE WAY WE'RE ALL WATCHING F1, SHOW LIVESTREAM AND REFRESHING FLIGHT RADAR AT THE SAME TIME

carlossainz55 Don't worry i'll handle the press so he can SPRINT

↳ username2 SHES SO LOVED

dualipa PROUD OF YOU ❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥

troyesivan tour of the century

username5 half of us watching the race, half tracking flights, half crying about the tour ending... math who???

mercedesamgf1 Our helicopter offer still stands @/charles_leclerc just saying

username6 NOT THE WHOLE F1 PADDOCK HELPING THIS MAN MAKE IT IN TIME... netflix been real quiet since this dropped fr

username7 IM SO PROUF OF HERRRR

username8 planning my own wedding but somehow more invested in this man making it to vegas help 💀

username9 NO YN DONT GOOO

username10 this show is going to be legendary

liked by username1, username2 and 59,726 others

f1updates BREAKING: OPERATION GET CHARLES TO VEGAS IS GO! 🏃‍♂️✈️

- Race finished 9:47pm Abu Dhabi time

- Fastest cooldown lap in F1 history

- Shortest post-race interview ever ("Yes car good thanks bye")

- Carlos creating chaos as distraction

- Pierre with the getaway bag

- Entire grid covering for him

- Multiple transport options ready

YN's show starts in 11 hours. IT'S HAPPENING.

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username1 everyone say thank you ferrari mechanics for that 0.5 second car shutdown

username2 never seen this man move so fast in his LIFE

username3 "how was the race carlos?" "LOOK OVER THERE A DISTRACTION"

username4 THE WAY HE YEETED HIMSELF OUT THAT CAR HELP 💀

username5 charles really said post race protocol who??? don't know her???

username6 never seen someone get out of race suit that fast tbh

username7 someone tell sky sports to stop looking for him he's GONE gone

username8 OPERATION YEET CHARLES TO VEGAS STATUS: ENGAGED

username9 charles doing his interview WHILE WALKING is sending me

username10 the whole paddock moving like secret service agents i can't 💀

username11 live footage of charles breaking land speed records to the airport

username12 netflix punching air rn that they missed filming this

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liked by username1, username2 and 67,864 others

f1updates🚨CHARLES LECLERC HAS ENTERED THE BUILDING ����

CONFIRMED DETAILS:

- Arrived during 6th song

- Still in race weekend stubble

- Pierre waiting with water bottle

- Security running interference

- Straight from plane to venue

- VIP entrance at 10:47pm

WE REPEAT: MISSION ACCOMPLISHED 🏃‍♂️✈️

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username1 IM CRYING

username2 I CANT BELIEVE HE MADE IT

username3 THE WAY THE WHOLE ARENA JUST GASPED???

username4 not me crying in section 103 watching him sprint to his seat 😭

username5 charles 🤝 cinderella = racing against midnight

username6 THE WAY YN STUMBLED OVER HER LYRICS WHEN SHE SAW HIM BYE-

username7 everyone who helped track his flight, we did it joe 😭

username8 security guard: sir you need to wal-

charles: I JUST FLEW 8000 MILES LET ME RUN

username9 yn’s smile when she saw him... brb sobbing

username10 THE WAY HE JUST COLLAPSED IN THAT SEAT LIKE HE RAN A MARATHON

username11 him mouthing "i made it" to her... i'm going to pass away

username12 section 201 reporting: his hair is still sweaty from racing and he's BEAMING at her like she hung the stars i'm literally deceased

username13 the way she kept giggling during the ballad bc he was still panting from running... HELP THIS IS SO CUTE???

username14 pierre handing him water and fixing his collar while yn's trying not to cry on stage... the CHAOS of it all

username15 THE WAY HE HASNT STOPPED SMILING AT HER SINCE HE SAT DOWN... boy ran across the world just to see her shine 🥺

username16 not the backup dancers crying bc he made it... WE'RE ALL EMOTIONAL OK

username17 THE WAY SHE KEEPS GETTING DISTRACTED BC HE'S FINALLY THERE... girl same i can't focus either

username18 everyone in the arena watching him catch his breath in that seat like we all just completed a mission together... WE DID IT YALL 😭

liked by username1, username2 and 59,068 others

yntourupdates TRANSCRIPT OF YN TALKING ABOUT CHARLES (while trying not to cry):

"So um... *laughs* someone just flew literally across the world to be here... *wipes tear* ran straight from his race... didn't even change... *crowd screams* ...and made it just in time for this next song. Which is funny because... I actually wrote this one about someone who would cross oceans just to make me smile... *voice breaks* ...and well... *looks at charles* ...guess I manifested that huh?"

SOMEONE HOLD ME 😭

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username1 THE WAY HE JUST BURIED HIS FACE IN HIS HANDS WHEN SHE SAID THAT-

username2 NOT THE ENTIRE ARENA TURNING TO LOOK AT HIM SOBBING IN THE FRONT ROW

username3 she really said "wrote a song about someone crossing oceans for me" and he said BET WATCH ME DO IT IRL

username4 section 304 reporting: grown men crying. me crying. everyone crying.

username5 HE LOOKS SO PROUD BUT ALSO EMOTIONAL BUT ALSO EXHAUSTED BUT ALSO SO IN LOVE HELP???

username6 NOT HER VOICE CRACKING WHEN SHE LOOKED AT HIM... netflix been real quiet since this dropped fr

username7 someone tell charles to stop looking at her like that i'm fighting for my life in row 23 😭

username8 the backup dancers wiping their eyes while doing choreo... we're all emotional messes tonight

username9 she really manifested a whole man flying across continents... her power??????

username10 yn crying, charles crying, dancers crying, crowd crying, me crying, everyone crying

username10 THE WAY HE MOUTHED "I LOVE YOU" WHEN SHE STARTED CRYING... I'm going to need medical attention

liked by carlossainz55, yourinstagram and 3,022,836 others

charles_leclerc Made it with 4 songs to spare. Thank you to:

- Every F1 driver who covered for me

- Pierre for the getaway bag

- Carlos for the media chaos

- Lewis for the helicopter

- Air traffic control

- That uber driver who broke speed limits

- Security who let me run

- Vegas traffic for finally clearing

Worth every second of that sprint 🏃‍♂️❤️ I love you more than anything @/yourinstagram

view all comments

username1 SOBBING

username2 I STILL CANT BELIEVE THIS REALLY HAPPENED

username3 doing post race interviews WHILE WALKING was iconic behavior

yourinstagram still can't believe you ran through vegas in race stubble just to see me cry on stage 🥺❤️ love you beyond words

pierregasly Anytime, brother, anytime

username4 you fixing your hair in your phone camera before sitting down... we saw that 👀

username5 ABU DHABI TO VEGAS SPEEDRUN ANY% WORLD RECORD

lorenzotl 🤍🤍

scuderiaferarri Next time we’ll have TWO helicopters ready

username6 this will go down as one of the most iconic moments in pop culture idc

username7 IT COUPLE FOREVER

username8 this entire thing is straight out of a romcom plot i can't

username9 IM CRYING AGAIN

username10 the great escape, 2024

liked by chappelroan, charles_leclerc and 3,099,578 others

yourinstagram and just like that, the lifetimes tour is over. 189 shows, countless memories, and one very special last night. to everyone who made this journey possible - my heart is yours forever.

special thank you to @/charles_leclerc who really said "watch me turn an f1 race to concert speedrun into a romantic gesture" 😭❤️ setting records on and off track baby, i love you so much

view all comments

username1 AND BACK TO CRYINGGG

username2 i can't believe this tour is over

charles_leclerc Still worth every mile mon coeur ❤️ I'm yours forever

username3 this man really turned "if he wanted to he would" into an olympic sport

pierregasly This was amazing. Let's not do it again

carlossainz55 Bext time we'll arrange TWO getaway cars

sabrinacarpenter happy for you my girl 💕

username4 from writing songs about crossing oceans to him actually doing it... manifestation is real

username5 "setting records on and off track" GIRL WE SAW HIM SPRINTING 😭

username6 the greatest love story since romeo and juliet except with private jets

username7 SOMEONE CHECK ON ME

username8 THAT LAST PHOTO BYE-

scuderiaferrari Our transport team is already planning routes for next year 😉

username9 AND I CAN'T EVEN GET A TEXT BACK

username10 this is the standard

[salemahn]

Pagan Gods || SB5

Summary: In the face of his own sins, he had no choice but to kneel and venerate.

cw: just a smut drabble with sebastian vettel

a/n: That doesn't mean my return yet, just thoughts about Sebastian Vettel that Twitter has been feeding in me (the things I would let Seb do to me)

•• 🇧🇷 ••

He knew it was a way for him to pay for all his sins. Lewis had warned him:

“Brazilian women are different, you are not prepared for them.”

And he wasn't, Y/N passed through his life like a hurricane, shaking his convictions, snatching a space that not even he knew was vacant. When Sebastian realized, he was on his knees for her, worshiping her as if she were a goddess, a pagan deity that needed to be worshipped every day, forever. And nothing would give him more pleasure than being on his knees for her, for her. Only Y/N and his car were capable of making him fall.

He had just won the 2012 championship, the world was once again, under the tires of his car, the team wanted to celebrate with him, his parents outside, wanting to congratulate him on the victory, journalists wanted to interview him, but Sebaatian just wanted those legs to suffocate him again.

“Seb, f-fuck,” she gasped, pulling at the blond curls under her summer dress, trembling with each stroke of his tongue against her clit. Sebastian didn't even give her time to lie down, or sit up; he pushed her against the wall, fell to his knees in front of her and like a starving man, ripped her panties off and ate her. “Holy God, s-slow down Sebastian!”

“So fucking good, puppe” he grunted, licking her taste from his mouth.

He looked at her, trembling, panting and sweaty, shining as only paradise could look. “Moan softly, love… I don't want anyone hearing my wife moaning while I make her cum,” he ordered, grabbing her pussy again. Y/N opened her mouth, only a soft whisper escaping her lips, the orgasm growing in her womb like a huge wave. Sebastian didn't let her think, react or even breathe. It all came down to his mouth sucking her clit as if it were the last thing he could do. She closed her eyes, letting her body melt under his attack, and dear God, she was burning.

Without her being able to think, Sebastian pushed her to the small bed and lifted her dress until Y/N was almost naked before him.

He leaned over her, licking the Brazilian's hard nipples, loving her pleading moans. He opened the jumpsuit in a hurry and got between his girlfriend's hot, wet folds. She sank her nails into his back, grinding with every inch. of his cock that entered. he kissed her, giving her everything he had, his love, his devotion, the world he had just won, Y/N was a goddess and he was her faithful, her acolyte, a profane god ready to put everything at her disposal, including her right there.

[salemahn]

hi marissa! first, i hope you have a wonderful time with your family!!

second, could i request “i might have had a few shots” with max, where reader drunk calls him after a breakup? thank youu 🫶🏻🫶🏻

i feel like i took some creative liberties with this one! i wasn't sure if you meant reader and max breakup or reader calls max after breaking up with someone else - so i went with the latter and couldn't resist making them idiots in love😭. after writing the danny ric angst, i needed to heal my own heart lol i truly hope you love it, liyah! thank you for always being so kind, it was a pleasure to write for you! wc: 1.8k warnings: cursing (most likely), a little bit of angst, mentions of drinking/reader being drunk

Getting ahold of Max Verstappen was nearly impossible – his use of the custom “Do Not Disturb” function was impressive. He had custom settings for everything: a work setting, a setting for when he was streaming, a race day setting, but his most prized was his sleep setting.

Once local time hit 10pm, Max Verstappen was unreachable to everyone. Well, almost everyone. His family, Christian, and you were the only exceptions, which aggravated Daniel to no end. “I’m your best friend, too!”, he’d claimed. But it wasn’t the same.

Max wasn’t secretly in love with Daniel. He’d take your calls anytime, day or night.

It was nearing midnight – Jimmy and Sassy were sound asleep at the foot of his bed and he’d been watching some legal drama you recommended. He hated it, but for you he’d watch it forever and take notes just to have another thing to talk to you about.

At this point, the show had practically put him to sleep, but the loud chime of his phone and your contact picture lighting up the screen jolted him awake.

“Maxie?” You yelled into the speaker. “Maxieee, are you there?”

“I’m here, liefje,” he chuckled. “What are you doing up so late?”

“Th’girls made me go out,” you whined. “Said I needed to dance and drink the night away.”

“And did you?” Max teased - by the sound of your voice, it was obvious you had taken their advice.

You giggled and the sound made Max’s heart clench in his chest. “I might’ve had a few shots, but don’t tell anyone. It’s a secret. Can you keep a secret, Max?”

His heart clenched now for a different reason – he was the best at keeping secrets. He’d been in love with you for over a year and the only living souls who knew were his cats. And probably Danny, though he'd had the sense to never bring it up.

“For you, I would do anything,” Max declared. In your drunken state, you failed to recognize the full extent of the meaning behind his words.

“Perfect!” You hiccupped, stumbling slightly before your friend caught your arm.

It was silent for a moment – Max waited for you to say something else but only heard your breathing through the speaker. “Is everything ok? Why did you call?”

“Well, no. Wanna go home but everyone else wants to stay out. Can you come get me, Maxie? It’s cold outside.”

“Are you alone?” He asked frantically, jumping out of bed and throwing a sweatshirt on in record time. He shoved his feet into his shoes so quickly that his ankle rolled – his trainer would be pissed when it came time for tomorrow’s workout.

“No, Nat and Peter are outside with me. They’re good friends. But not as good as you!”

Max breathed a sigh of relief – grateful that your closest friend and her boyfriend were watching over you. Unfortunately, the relief didn’t keep his stomach from twisting at “good friend”.

“I’ll be there in ten minutes, ok?”

You shouted thank you gleefully and hung up – he could picture you jumping up and down in excitement, you’d probably fall over unless Nat and Peter were close enough to catch you.

Minutes later, he pulled up alongside the club and he’d barely made it out of his car before you were jumping into his arms.

“I knew I could count on you, Maxie.”

He gently put you in the passenger seat, buckling you in and grabbing a jacket from his backseat to drape over you. Once you were comfortable, content, and ready to go, he turned to your friends to thank them for waiting with you.

“Thanks for staying with her until I could get here.”

“No problem at all,” Nat smiled. “We all thought she deserved a night out after the week she’s had, but I think she’d rather just be with you.”

Max blushed, unintentionally ignoring that your friend had just let slip you’d had a terrible week and he’d had no idea. He thanked them once again, and slipped into his car to find you half asleep and cuddling his jacket.

He thought you’d be out like a light in moments and turned the radio down, content to sit in silence until he got to his place. He’d rather die than wake you up to find your keys when you looked so peaceful.

“Can I tell you another secret, Maxie?” You murmured, startling him when you broke the still silence in his car.

“Sure, Y/N.”

“Alec dumped me. And I’m not even sad about it.”

Your latest boyfriend – you’d been dating for a couple of months. Max wondered why you had called him instead of Alec, but he didn’t want to ask since he didn’t particularly like talking about your boyfriends, even if they were nice. As far as he could tell, Alec was one of the nice ones.

“I’m sorry. Is that why your friends wanted you to go out?”

“They thought I’d be devastated,” you said bewildered. “And I haven’t even cried! You know me, Maxie, I’m a crier. I had to pretend to be upset when I told them.”

Max laughed at that, looking at you as you laughed along with him. His dimple and shining eyes caused your heart to skip a beat, and your smile slowly disappeared.

Suddenly, you had a horrified look on your face. You knew why you hadn’t cried – it was because you didn’t really care that much about Alec. Sure, he was sweet, kind, and attractive, but something was missing. When he broke up with you, he was so gracious, telling you that he thought the world of you but that it would never work because you were clearly in love with someone else. You’d protested – told him the only constant male presence in your life was Max, your best friend. He’d just smiled at you and said “I know”, leaving you perplexed when he left the coffee shop you had met up at. Until now, you had no idea what he meant.

You turned away from Max, shocked at the revelation of your feelings, staring out the window until he got to his apartment.

“I thought you’d be asleep,” he explained when he saw your confused face. “Didn’t want to rifle through your bag for your keys or wake you up. The spare bedroom has fresh sheets anyway.”

You nodded, practically catapulting yourself out of the car and into his building. The speed at which you trekked up to his place was impressive, especially in the shoes you’d chosen for the evening, and Max began to sweat. Had he done something wrong? Were you pissed he didn’t take you home?

When he unlocked his door, you ran straight to the guest bathroom and shut yourself in. Max was disoriented – you didn’t seem that drunk, and truthfully you were only ever quiet when you were asleep.

While you were in the bathroom, Max put a change of clothes and spare toiletries on your bed, slipping out when he heard the sink stop running.

You smiled when you saw the pile Max had left on your bed, suddenly feeling very ashamed for abruptly ignoring him. The TV was on in the living room and after changing, taking off your makeup, and brushing your teeth, you felt slightly more sober and a lot more guilty.

“Max?” you whispered, slinking into the living room to sit beside him on the couch. “Can I tell you one more secret?”

“Of course, you can always tell me anything.”

“Alec broke up with me because he thinks I’m in love with someone else.”

“Well, that’s crazy,” Max scoffs. “He must not want to tell you the real reason or didn’t have one so he made that up. I mean, what guys do you know that he’s even met? Peter? Another one of your friends’  boyfriends? You don’t even have that many close guy friends except me and - ”

Max cuts himself off, slowly turning to face you. He doesn’t think he’s breathing, blood rushing in his ears and a tightness starts to spread throughout his chest.

You have a sad smile on your face and your eyes are downcast, playing with the sleeves of the hoodie Max had given you.

“I don’t think I even realized until tonight,” you whispered. “Looking at you in the car, watching you laugh, how you were the only person I wanted to call and you dropped everything to come get me. It just kind of hit me – who Alec meant, why none of my relationships have ever worked out.”

Max scoots away from you, and suddenly it’s painful to breathe. There’s an ache in your chest that almost burns –  like someone’s waving a lighter back and forth over your heart, each time leaving the flame against you a little longer.

“You’re drunk, Y/N, you don’t know what you’re saying. Please, please don’t do this.”

When you look at his face, see the panic that’s masking heartache, you realize that he’s not moving away from you because he doesn’t feel the same.

He’s moving away because he does, and for how long, you don’t know – but the flame licks higher and higher until the burning reaches your throat when you understand that he thinks you’re too far gone to understand your own feelings.

“Max, I’m not – ”

He cuts you off, reaching out to cup your face with his hand. “In the morning. If you wake up, and you still want to have this conversation, I will listen.”

You nod and stand up from the couch, leaving him sitting under the glow of the television. The apartment feels colder as you walk towards the guest room, and when you stop to look back at him, his head is in his hands and it terrifies you. Max was the one person in this world that you could never lose – it would shatter you.

Sleep never came to you – tossing and turning in the plush pillows that you picked out because Max wanted you as comfortable as possible in his space. When the sun came up, you crept out of bed and didn’t stop until you were in front of Max’s door. You knocked twice, rocking back on forth on the balls of your feet.

The door opened within seconds – Max’s tired eyes showed that he got about as much sleep as you did.

“It’s morning,” you whispered.

“It is.”

“It’s morning and I still love you.”

He smiled at you, so big and so bright, it rivaled the Mediterranean summer sun. You wanted this moment captured forever – painted perfectly in a portrait done by the most highly esteemed artist in the world.

You threw your arms around his neck, sacrificing seeing the beauty of him to feel him in your arms. His soft breaths tickled your skin, and your giggles made him squeeze you even tighter.

“You don’t know how many mornings I’ve spent waiting to hear you say that.”

“You’ll never have to live through another one again, Max.”

[salemahn]

hi love ! i saw you were asking for sweet fluffy requests :) i was thinking maybe max v being just soft and like clingy with reader whenever they’re together ? in the paddock/garage, at dinner, partying with friends/other drivers - no matter where they are max just needs to have his hand on his girl 🫶

Cuddle Bug🐞

max verstappen x female reader

summary: wherever you are, max is sure to follow

warnings: tooth rotting fluff

a/n: soft max just 😖 thank you to everyone sending me in cute ideas im gonna work at them slowly and turn them into little blurbs.

If anyone knew you and Max as a couple, they’d say you’re like koalas, clinging to one another no matter where you were or where you went. It could be in the nightclub celebrating a win, Max would have his arms around you as he kissed your neck gently, keeping your back to his chest so he wouldn’t lose you in the crowd.

Or at a dinner with family, his hand finding solace on your knee or thigh, bringing your chair as close to his as possible allowing him to lean into you or vice versa. Max wanted to be as physically close to you as he possibly could.

You loved every second of it.

So it was no surprise when Christian walked into the garage to find his star driver, cuddled up with you along the back wall, no doubt whispering stupid jokes into your ear to make you laugh. It was a common occurrence, and half the time he didn’t have the heart to pull you two apart. If there was anyone perfect for the dutchman it was you, no doubt about it.

“Max, meeting in five alright?”

Keeping his arms wrapped around you he turned to nod, letting the team principle know he’d be there, even if it meant letting you go for the next hour and a bit.

“Stupid meetings….”

“Maxie…they’re part of your job..”

He groaned tucking his face into your neck

“Why can’t this be my job”

“What cuddling me?”

“Mhm”

You couldn’t help the soft laugh that escaped your lips, your hands rubbing his back gently to cheer up your now displeased boyfriend.

“I’m afraid this job doesn’t pay nearly enough my love…”

Max was quiet as he pulled back, taking your face in his hands as he looked at you as if you were the entire universe, and truth be told you were his.

“Getting to love you and hold you, is worth more than any amount of money in the world.”

He didn’t let you say anything back as he leaned down to capture your lips with his, effectively knocking you off his feet, before sending you a wink and walking off for the next little while, leaving you to entertain yourself.

Max was a man of many words, but the words he shared with you, would always be special…especially since they came from your cuddle bug of a boyfriend.

[salemahn]

the ways in which max shows you he loves you - m.verstappen

pairings: max verstappen x reader

warnings: headcanon + some scenarios + google translated Dutch

- with flowers

whether it’s a certain occasion or just because, max loves to get you flowers. he loves the spontaneity of how you have the slightest clue you’re receiving them, and then when you finally do the bright smile on your face lifts his whole world.

- holding hands

he’s not big into pda, but he loves a little hand squeeze or just interlacing your fingers together is enough for him and you never press it. you just like his touch and that he’s comfortable in public enough to do that.

- sending you cat memes

he is the definition of a cat dad. he loves jimmy and sassy so much that even you have become a crazy cat parent too. your twitter and tik tok feed are covered with funny cat videos or tweets that you send each other while being just two seat cushions away.

max33verstappen sent you a tweet

lol ^ us

read at 2:30am

- listening to you

you had a bad day, and max sat there on the couch listening to you rant from your work life to your social life. he holds your hand or a box of tissues and he always makes sure you’ve got everything off your chest because he refuses to let you sleep with something on your mind.

- Dutch pet names

“schat, how are you?” finger tips caressing your cheek, lips hovering over yours his lips are soft and delicate. darling

or

“mijn mannetje I’m so proud of you!” you wrap your arms around him, lips pressing against his helmet, “number one! you did it again.” my little man

- letting you drive him around

as much as he loves driving, he likes being a passenger princess. he never puts up a fight when you ask for the keys, he just gladly tosses them and silently judges your driving.

- cuddles(being the big spoon)

he likes his arms around your body, and he doesn’t mind being the little spoon here and there, but he likes your hair against his skin or your head against his chest.

- the occasional instagram story posts

max isn’t big into posting or sharing about his relationship online, and neither are you but you both post each other from time to time to give his fans some soft boyfriend content.

yourusername added to their story

[salemahn]

Your cocktail idea is so good! Can you do a violet fluff for Max verstappen with prompt "How do you always know exactly what I need?" "I pay attention." ? I feel like max would def be the person to remember absolutely every little detail about someone he cares for🥲

thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

3. "How do you always know exactly what I need?" "I pay attention."

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“Hey, babe, do you know where that dress of mine is?”

Max frowned a little as he reached to pause his game, pulling his headphones off to rest around his neck before he turned to see where you were standing by the doorway, looking a bit frazzled and stressed out. 

“What?” He asked, his brows furrowing in concern as you rubbed your hands over your face before letting out a groan. 

“Ugh, that stupid blue dress that I love,” you groaned as you rounded the living room, towards the SIM set up he had in the corner. “The one you got me from Mexico, remember? I was thinking of wearing that to that coworker’s fancy dinner thing this weekend but I can’t find it anymore. I swear I saw it just the other day but I’ve been looking for hours and I can’t find it.” 

“The one with the strings on the back?” Max questioned, watching as you nodded solemnly. “Oh, I sent that to the dry cleaners with my suits last week.” 

You blinked. “What?” 

“I sent it last week when I told you I was getting all of my suits dry cleaned,” Max repeated with a casual shrug of his shoulders. “You said the other day that you were thinking of wearing that one.” 

Your eyes softened. “And you remembered?” 

“Yeah, of course,” he murmured with a small frown. “It’s that coworker you hate, no? You said you wanted to wear a dress that you felt comfortable in and knew you looked good in. You always say the blue one is your favourite too, so I sent it off.” 

“You are not real,” you murmured fondly. 

“You also said to Victoria that you love wearing that silver bag with it so I put it on the top shelf of my wardrobe so the cats wouldn’t get to it,” Max added as a passing thought. “Knowing Sassy, she will have a sixth sense that you’ll need it that day and rip it to pieces.” 

“How do you always know exactly what I need?” You questioned, shaking your head in disbelief. 

“I pay attention,” Max shrugged. 

“I love you,” you breathed out before leaning down to press a smacking kiss on his cheek. “Like, a stupid amount.”

Max snorted but happily accepted your affection. “I love you a stupid amount, too.” 

“Glad it’s reciprocated,” you murmured, nuzzling your face against his neck as he pulled you down onto his lap, the game long forgotten by now. 

“I was also thinking you could take one of my cars too,” Max added with a cheeky smile. “As a proper fuck you to your coworker.” 

You sighed happily. “You are literally perfect, Max Verstappen.” 

He beamed back in response.

.

[salemahn]

Sebastian vettel x wife reader. His kids and them do their Christmas Eve tradition (setting out the cookies milk and carrot for Santa. The one gift on the eve. Matching pj's. Reading a Christmas book (either the polar express or twas the night before christmas)

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Christmas traditions — Sebastian Vettel x fem!reader

Word count 737

Fluff

Tagged @diaryofarandomkid

soft glow of the Christmas tree lights bathed the living room in a warm, magical ambiance. The scent of cinnamon, chocolate, and pine filled the air, and soft holiday music played in the background. You walked in with a plate of freshly baked cookies, your children, Emilie and Matilda, bouncing around with uncontainable excitement as Sebastian knelt by the coffee table.

“Okay, girls,” you said, setting the plate down. “We’ve got milk, cookies, and… what else do we need?”

“A carrot!” Matilda exclaimed, holding up the giant vegetable triumphantly. Her little cheeks were flushed with excitement, and her messy blonde curls bounced as she darted over to her father.

Sebastian grinned, taking the carrot from her small hands. “Exactly, Tilly. We wouldn’t want the reindeer to feel left out, would we?” He set the carrot on the plate, adjusting it ever so slightly to make it look just right.

Emilie, ever the careful one, carried the glass of milk over to the table. “Do you think Santa likes chocolate chip best? Or should we put out a gingerbread cookie too?” she asked, her brow furrowed in deep concentration.

You crouched beside them, resting a hand on Emilie’s shoulder. “Hmm, Santa’s never complained before, but you know, he does work very hard. Maybe we should give him some variety.”

The girls nodded solemnly as you handed over an extra gingerbread man. Emilie placed it delicately on the plate, her face glowing with pride. “There. Now it’s perfect.”

Sebastian leaned back on his heels, surveying the setup with mock seriousness. “I think this might be the best plate of treats Santa’s ever gotten,” he declared, making the girls beam.

With the snacks for Santa ready, it was time for the next part of the tradition. Upstairs, everyone changed into their matching Christmas pajamas—this year’s set featured cozy flannel with reindeer and snowflakes. Matilda twirled in hers, showing off the red and white pattern.

“Do you like mine, Mama?” she asked, striking a pose.

You laughed, kneeling to adjust her pajama top. “I love it, sweetie. You look like the cutest little Christmas elf.”

Sebastian walked out of the bedroom holding two small gifts wrapped in shimmering paper, the twinkle in his eye matching the lights on the tree. “Alright, little elves,” he called. “Time to open your Christmas Eve presents.”

The girls scrambled to the couch, giggling as they eagerly grabbed their packages. Emilie tore hers open with care, revealing a beautifully illustrated edition of The Polar Express. “A new book!” she exclaimed, hugging it to her chest.

Matilda ripped into hers with far less restraint, squealing as she pulled out a plush unicorn with a golden horn. “It’s so fluffy!” she shouted, immediately hugging it tight.

Sebastian sat down, motioning for everyone to gather around. “Okay, who’s ready for the story?”

Emilie and Matilda climbed onto the couch, one on each side of him, clutching their new treasures. You tucked a blanket around them, settling in beside Matilda as Sebastian opened the book.

His voice was rich and animated as he began reading the tale of The Polar Express. Emilie’s eyes widened with wonder at the descriptions of the magical train, while Matilda snuggled into your side, her unicorn tucked under her chin. Sebastian’s voice carried through the room, each word weaving a spell that made the story come alive.

By the time he reached the final page, the girls’ excitement had softened into sleepy smiles. Emilie yawned, her eyelids drooping as she leaned against Sebastian, and Matilda’s breathing had grown steady and slow, her little hand still clutching her unicorn.

You and Sebastian carried the girls upstairs, gently tucking them into bed. As you pulled the blankets up, Emilie mumbled, “Do you think Santa will like the cookies?”

“He’ll love them,” Sebastian whispered, brushing a kiss against her forehead. “Sweet dreams, meine Maus.”

Back downstairs, the house was quiet except for the soft hum of the Christmas tree lights. Sebastian wrapped an arm around your waist as you both admired the work you’d done—gifts arranged under the tree, stockings hanging perfectly by the fireplace.

“You’ve made this perfect, liebe,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to your temple.

You smiled, leaning into him. “We made it perfect, Seb.”

As you both stood there, wrapped in each other’s warmth, the magic of Christmas filled the air—a night of love, family, and traditions that would stay in your hearts forever.

[salemahn]

'Childcare, skates and kisses'

F1- OS

Franco Colapinto x reader

Summary : Where Franco and you have to spend a day together with your niece

Warnings: So, I kinda realize Idk anything about kids’ ages, so maybe she’s too young for the stuff she’s doing, but whatever, you just play along… lots of fluff ‘cause I really need it. It’s just Franco with kids it’s cute, it’s sweet, that’s all. And maybe a little flirty hint (because, well, it’s Franco) & English is not my first language so sorry :) and i already gave a name to your niece sorry

I’m posting this fic 'cause I’ve had the idea since Vegas. Just to be clear it’s not saying Franco should have kids or anything—he’s still young... It’s just a cute story and it works well since I found out a few days ago that I’m an auntie for the first time,  hiiii !!! To a little niece, so the inspiration came naturally !

NB: Y/B/N = your brother's name

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Franco parked in front of your building, slamming the door of his car with a sigh. He was tired, still a bit out of it from his last trip for a GP, but happy to be back with you after a long race weekend. All he wanted was to curl up in your arms, enjoy your smile, and maybe have a quiet evening together. He knocked softly on the door and waited. A few seconds later, the door opened… but instead of your usual smile, a little girl around five years old, wearing a unicorn pajama, with messy little curls and holding a stuffed animal way too big for her, stood there, looking up at him with a bright smile that reminded him of someone.

— Hi! Who are you? the little girl asked cheerfully.

Franco stammered, clearly confused:

— Uh… hey? And who are you?

He looked behind her, trying to figure out what was going on, but all he could hear was the sound of a cartoon playing in the living room. Before the little girl could answer, you appeared quickly, holding a towel to dry your hands.

— Oh, babe, you’re here! Sorry, I didn’t hear you knock, you said with a soft laugh.

You walked over, lifted your little niece into your arms, kissed her cheek, and gave Franco a quick kiss hello. But Franco, still frozen, couldn’t resist teasing.

— So… do you have something to tell me? Like… we had a baby and you forgot to tell me? he said, raising an eyebrow playfully.

You burst out laughing at his shocked face, and your niece giggled in your arms.

— Silly. This is Emma, my niece. Remember, I told you my brother needed me to look after her today?

Franco sighed, pretending to be relieved:

— Oh, okay. Because I was wondering how I could’ve forgotten something like that. She’s a mini-you, it’s kinda creepy. I thought it was a tiny version of you.

You set Emma down and invited her inside. The little girl, curious, didn’t take her eyes off Franco.

— Are you Uncle Fran? Emma asked excitedly.

Franco raised an eyebrow, glancing at you, amused.

— Uncle Fran? That’s what you call me now?

— I might’ve told her a little about you… She was super excited to meet you, you admitted with a smile.

Franco bent down to look Emma in the eye and pretended to be serious.

— So, you must be… Princess Emma, the mini-version of your auntie Y/N. Nice to meet you, young lady.

Emma burst into laughter and reached her arms out for a hug. Franco, touched, picked her up.

— I hope you didn’t inherit your aunt’s temper, or we’re in trouble.

— No, I’m funnier than her, Emma replied with a laugh.

— Hey! Traitor! you protested, pretending to be offended.

Franco laughed out loud, and you all walked into the apartment. He noticed a tray of cereal, fruit juices, and toast on the table.

— You could’ve told me. I would’ve brought some candy or something, he said.

— Since when you need an excuse to eat candy? you replied, rolling your eyes.

Emma sat down in a chair, but as soon as Franco sat next to her, she climbed onto his lap.

— I want to eat on Uncle Fran’s lap! she declared.

Franco raised an eyebrow, amused.

— Well, princess, you don’t waste any time, do you?

While you made a cup of coffee, you shot a playful look at Franco.

— “Watch out, don’t let those pretty eyes and angel face fool you. She’s going to get you to do whatever she wants,” you warned.

As if to confirm your words, Emma started laughing with an adorable smile. Franco was done for. 

He burst out laughing, beginning to hand her pieces of toast while listening to her chatter about Frozen, the butterflies she learned to draw at school, and her love for unicorns. You watched the scene, amused, as Franco seriously engaged in her conversations, even giving his opinion on unicorns.

When Emma finished her bowl of cereal, she looked up, eyes sparkling.

— Uncle Fran, is it true you’re a race car driver and go super, super fast?

Franco paused dramatically.

— Hmm… who told you that?

— Auntie Y/N, she said mischievously.

Franco looked at you with a teasing smile.

— Oh yeah? You talk about me to everyone, huh?

— Not really. Just to people who care, you replied with a playful look.

Emma tugged at Franco’s sleeve.

— Do you go as fast as Lightning McQueen?

Franco nodded, amused.

— Exactly, mi amor. Like Lightning McQueen, but better.

— And do you always win?

Franco leaned in close, whispering like it was a secret.

— Of course. I’m the best.

From the counter, you burst into laughter and couldn’t help but tease.

— Not always, huh? Sometimes Uncle Fran gets overtaken.

Franco placed a theatrical hand over his heart, pretending to be hurt.

— What’s all this slander? I’m a champion!

Emma, with admiration:

— I think he’s the best!

Franco winked at her and tickled her, causing her to burst into giggles. You watched them, touched by their immediate bond.

You rolled your eyes, but a fond smile played on your lips.

“Alright, champion, since you’re so perfect, could you do me a favor?”

Franco looked at you, a teasing sparkle in his eyes.

“Hmm, depends. What’s the favor?”

You walked up to him, holding a brush and a little flower hair elastic.

“Could you do Emma’s hair while I finish getting ready?”

Emma, hopping with excitement, added:

“I want braids today! Like Elsa!”

Franco raised an eyebrow, confused.

“Braids? You want me to do braids?”

Emma jumped off his lap and ran to grab a blue snowflake hair clip. From across the room, she yelled:

“And my Elsa clip too!”

You crossed your arms, mischievous.

“So, champ, ready to take on the challenge?”

Franco sighed dramatically.

“Fine, okay. But if I mess up, you won’t hold it against me, right Emma?”

Emma trotted back, handing him the clip before sitting down obediently in a chair. Franco stared at the brush in his hands like it was a complicated object.

“So, do I start by brushing? Is that the thing?”

A smirk formed on your face as you sipped your coffee.

“Congrats, you’ve already got the basics down. Keep going, genius.”

Franco began brushing Emma’s curly hair, but the knots made it tricky.

“Ouch, Uncle Fran!”

Franco panicked slightly.

“Oops, sorry, sorry.”

He struggled to separate the strands to make braids, but nothing stayed in place. Passing through the living room, you couldn’t help but smile at the scene.

“Everything okay, champ? Getting through it?”

Franco grumbled in response.

“This is tougher than a gp, your thing.”

You burst out laughing, watching him struggle.

Emma, still cheerful:

“You’re funny, Uncle Fran!”

After several failed attempts, Franco gave up on the braids and went for two pigtails.

“Well, Emma, I think pigtails suit you better than braids. Don’t you think?”

Emma nodded, eyes shining.

“With my Elsa clip?”

Seriously, he pinned the clip to the side and let out a sigh of relief as he admired his work. You came back into the room and inspected the result.

“Well, it’s not perfect, but I’ll admit, you did okay.”

Franco shrugged, pretending to be modest.

“That’s called natural talent”

After breakfast and the hair episode, you suggested a trip to the park. Emma jumped for joy at the idea. Franco, though clearly tired, agreed with a shrug.

“Alright, princess, let’s go to the park. But if you tire me out too much, it’s Aunt Y/N who’s going to have to carry me back.”

You crossed your arms with a smile.

“Oh, I’m sure you’ll end up carrying Emma AND her backpack.”

Emma, already bouncing near the door:

“Yeah, Uncle Fran!”

Franco shot you a teasing glance.

“You see? I’m the favorite here. Sorry, baby.”

Amused, you grabbed your bag while they got ready to leave.

The trio arrived at the park on a beautiful winter’s day. Emma immediately ran towards the playground but quickly turned around.

“Uncle Fran, come with me!”

Slouched on a bench next to you, Franco sighed.

“She’s got too much energy, that little one.”

You chuckled softly.

“Come on, Uncle Fran. Show her you’re the king of the playground.”

With an exaggerated sigh, Franco stood up.

“Fine. But if I get hurt, you’re massaging me tonight.”

You smiled, teasing.

“Watch out for making a fool of yourself instead.”

With a wink in your direction, he went to join Emma, who was eagerly waiting for him…

Emma climbed up the slide and called out to Franco.

“Uncle Franco, look at me!”

With his hands on his hips, Franco responded,

“I’m watching, princess. Show me what you’ve got.”

Emma slid down laughing, arms in the air. Franco clapped loudly.

“Bravo! But you know, I’m the champion of the slide. No one can beat me.”

Emma looked at him, surprised.

“Really?”

To prove his point, Franco climbed up the slide. With his height, he was clearly too big for it. From a distance, you burst out laughing as you watched him get stuck halfway up.

“Need some help, Uncle Fran?” you shouted teasingly.

Struggling to move, Franco replied,

“No, no, I’m fine!”

Emma, cracking up, encouraged him.

“Uncle Fran, you’re too big for the slide!”

Finally, Franco managed to slide down, landing in the sand, covered in dust. He stood up, proudly brushing himself off.

“There you go, mission accomplished!”

You gently teased him.

“Yeah, really impressive…”

Walking over to you with a mischievous grin, Franco said,

“Jealous? Want to try it, baby?”

You shook your head, amused.

“No thanks. I like to keep my dignity.”

After a busy morning, you all sat down on a blanket while Emma played, building castles in the sandbox.

You said to Franco, a bit admiring,

“You’re really good with kids.”

Franco shrugged, pretending to be modest.

“Of course. Kids love me. I’m irresistible.”

You rolled your eyes, smirking.

“Still as humble as ever. You know that doesn’t work if you’re the one complimenting yourself?”

Franco winked at you.

“You’re lucky, Y/N. I like your brother, but I like his little princess even more.”

You let out a playful laugh.

“And now I have to deal with two kids…”

You both burst out laughing, interrupted by Emma, who came running toward you, super excited.

“Look at my castle, it’s so pretty, right?”

After their trip to the park, you all returned to the apartment. Emma, full of energy despite the already busy morning, didn’t seem ready to calm down.

“Uncle Fran, can we play a game?!” she squealed, bouncing up and down.

Sinking into the couch, Franco gave her a tired smile.

“A game? But I’m an old, tired man…”

Emma placed her hands on her hips, her face determined.

“You’re not old, Uncle Fran! You’re just lazy!”

You burst out laughing, sitting next to Franco: “She got you there,” you teased.

Franco raised an eyebrow, pretending to be offended.

“Lazy, me? Alright, little princess, what game do you want to play?”

Emma clapped her hands, excited.

“Hide and seek!”

Franco raised his hands in surrender.

“Okay, but I’m warning you, I’m the king of hide and seek. No one’s ever found me.”

Emma crossed her arms, determined.

“We’ll see about that!”

And so, the game began.

Franco slowly gets up, stretching exaggeratedly, before signaling to Emma.

“Alright, it’s you who counts, little spy. But no cheating, okay?”

Emma closes her eyes, placing her hands in front of her face.

“I’m counting to ten. Get ready, Uncle Fran!”

Franco gives you a quick glance, a mischievous smile on his lips.

“Watch closely, baby. I’m about to prove I’m the best,” he whispers.

You roll your eyes, amused.

Emma starts counting out loud.

“One… two… three…”

Franco quietly runs through the apartment, looking for a hiding spot. He hesitates between hiding behind the living room curtains or in the bathroom bathtub, but finally decides to lie down behind the couch.

Emma finishes counting.

“Ten! Here I come!”

She opens her eyes and looks around.

“Hmmm… where’s Uncle Fran?”

She walks through the living room, checking behind the curtains, then turns to you.

“Auntie Y/N, do you know where he is?”

You give her a teasing smile.

“Maybe. But I won’t tell you.”

Emma squints her eyes, as if she suspects something.

“You’re kidding! That means he’s close by!”

She runs into the living room, circling the couch. Franco, lying on the floor, deliberately lets part of his shoe stick out.

Emma lets out an excited shout.

“A-ha! I found you, Uncle Fran!”

Franco pretends to jump in surprise.

“Noooo! How did you do that?!”

Emma bursts out laughing.

“I’m too good!”

Franco stands up, lifts her into the air, and spins her around gently.

“Okay, okay, you’re the best. But now, it’s your turn to hide.”

Emma runs off to hide, her laughter echoing through the apartment. Franco turns to you.

“She’s probably going to pick an obvious spot, right?”

You shrug with a smile.

“Maybe. But pretend to have trouble finding her, or she’ll get upset.”

Franco nods, playing along, and starts searching loudly.

“Hmmm… maybe she’s here?” he says, deliberately checking under a cushion.

“Nope.”

He moves toward the kitchen and opens a cupboard.

“Or here? Still nothing… Where could she be?”

Emma, hiding under the table with a tablecloth hanging all the way to the floor, tries to hold in her laughter. Franco walks past the table, then stops, glancing at you.

“This is impossible. She’s evaporated,” he says dramatically.

You join in on the game.

“Maybe she snuck back home.”

Franco pretends to panic. Emma bursts out laughing, giving away her hiding spot. Franco suddenly turns his head.

“What?! That sound?!”

He quickly crouches down, lifts the tablecloth, and finds Emma, who’s laughing uncontrollably.

“A-ha! Gotcha!” he exclaims, grabbing her.

He lifts her onto his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, making her laugh even harder.

After several rounds of hide-and-seek, Emma, tired, settled onto Franco’s lap on the couch. She was playing with his hair while he held her gently. Sitting next to them, you watched the scene with a soft smile.

You rest your head on Franco’s shoulder, happy to see him being so sweet with your niece. This simple but perfect moment of closeness reminded you once again why you loved him.

A little later, Franco insisted on making something, even though he wasn’t exactly a master chef.

Franco, rummaging through the fridge: “Let’s see… Eggs, cheese, ham… Perfect, I’m making you an omelette.”

You cross your arms, a teasing smile on your lips.

“An omelette? How original… Should we call a food critic to rate it?”

Franco taps his chest, feigning offense.

“Babe you’re talking to a master of simple, efficient cooking. I can make meals with an even emptier fridge. Get ready to be impressed.”

You hold back a laugh.

“You don’t make them, you order them.”

Franco rolls his eyes, amused.

“Yeah, well… We do what we can, okay?”

Emma, sitting at the table, watches him with admiration.

“I want an omelette with lots of cheese, Uncle Fran!”

Franco turns to her with a smile.

“Of course, princesa. Anything you want. But if Auntie Y/N keeps doubting my chef skills, she’ll get a tiny omelette.”

You shake your head, amused, and decide to set the table while Franco prepares the meal.

After lunch, Emma enjoys a yogurt, but your phone rings. It’s your brother. You pick up immediately.

“Hello? Oh, Y/B/N, are you okay?”

On the other end, your brother sounds stressed. He explains that he’s stuck at work because of an unexpected emergency and won’t be able to pick up Emma as early as planned.

“Can you pass me the phone, please? I need to explain it to her.” your brother asks.

You look down at Emma, who’s playing with her spoon, and hand her the phone.

“Emma, it’s your dad. He wants to talk to you.”

Emma eagerly takes the phone.

“Hi, Daddy! Are you coming soon?”

In a soft but apologetic voice, her dad explains that he won’t be able to come because of work. Emma nods, but her smile fades.

“Okay, Daddy…”

She hands the phone back to you, clearly disappointed.

Seeing the little girl sad, Franco sets his napkin down and kneels next to her.

“Hey, princess. Why the long face?”

Emma, her eyes downcast:

“Daddy was supposed to take me to see Santa and have a big hot chocolate. But he can’t come…”

Franco thinks for a second, then claps his hands.

“Alright, here’s what we’re gonna do. What if me, Auntie Y/N, and you go see Santa together?”

Emma looks up, her eyes sparkling.

“Really? You’d come with me?”

Franco, with a big grin:

“Of course! And I promise we’ll get the biggest hot chocolate we can find.”

You cross your arms, teasing:

“And I’m supposed to carry all the gift bags, right?”

Franco raises an eyebrow.

“Obviously. Who else?”

Emma bursts out laughing, her mood completely lifted.

A few hours later, you arrive at the mall, lit up with Christmas decorations and twinkling lights. Santa is sitting in a big red chair, surrounded by fake presents and a giant Christmas tree.

Emma, jumping with excitement while holding Franco’s hand, looks at you eagerly.

“Uncle Franco, do you think Santa will recognize me?”

Franco, with a serious smile, replies,

“Oh, of course. Princesses like you, he never forgets them.”

You can’t help teasing the little one.

“And maybe he’ll ask you why you didn’t listen to Uncle Franco when he told you to eat your vegetables at lunch.”

She stares at you, horrified.

“No! Uncle Fran, did you tell him?”

Franco bursts out laughing.

“No, mi amor, I’ve got your back. But next time, eat your veggies, okay?”

She nods vigorously, clearly relieved.

When it’s finally her turn to meet Santa, Emma climbs onto his lap, her eyes sparkling. You take out your phone to capture the moment, while Franco, next to you, can’t take his eyes off her, touched by the sight.

“She’s really adorable. She looks so much like you.”

You shoot him a playful look.

“At least she doesn’t have your ego, though.”

He pretends to be offended but just smiles, absorbed in watching Emma happily chat with Santa.

A little later, Franco insists that you all go to the mall’s café. He orders a hot chocolate with lots of whipped cream for Emma, a coffee for you, and a hot chocolate for himself.

He shows his cup to Emma with a smile.

“See? Even big guys like me love hot chocolate.”

The little one bursts into laughter.

“With lots of whipped cream, like me?”

“Exactly.”

You watch them, amused, rolling your eyes but unable to hold back your smile.

As you leave the mall, Emma, holding Franco’s hand and hopping with joy after her huge hot chocolate, spots an ice rink set up outside, surrounded by twinkling lights and Christmas music.

“Ohhh, Auntie Y/N, Uncle Fran, look! An ice rink! Can we go, please?”

You furrow your brow, eyeing the ice. “Oh, um… I don’t know, Emma. It looks slippery, and dangerous, and…”

“But, Auntiiiee… I just want to try, just a little bit!” She gives you that irresistible puppy-dog look.

Franco, next to her, grins slyly. “Come on, love. Let her have some fun. She’s small, and there are helpers to guide them.”

You sigh, already knowing you’re going to give in. Emma knows exactly how to make you crack. “Alright, fine. But only if she has all the safety gear.”

“Yessss! Thank you, Auntie Y/N!”

Once at the rink, you find a helper ready to assist the kids on the ice. Emma, equipped with skates, a helmet, and elbow pads, looks like a little doll in her pink puffer jacket and matching gloves.

She awkwardly glides on the ice, laughing out loud and sometimes holding onto the barriers or the helper. Franco, by your side, watches her with a fond smile.

“Look at her. She’s adorable. A real champion.”

You smile, touched. “Yeah, and so brave. I could never do that.”

Franco turns to you, a teasing smile on his lips. “Never? You mean you’ve never skated before?”

“I have, when I was little. But I was awful. I kept falling. And I’m not about to embarrass myself today.”

“Baby, that’s part of the fun. Besides, I’m here. I’ll hold you up. I promise.”

You hesitate, looking at him. “Franco, no. I’m definitely going to fall.”

He insists, a charming smile on his face. “If you fall, I’ll catch you. I’m your safety net.”

You roll your eyes, but Emma, from the ice, starts cheering you on.

“Auntie Y/N! Come skate with us! It’s so fun!”

After a lot of persuasion, you finally agree to put on skates. Franco holds out his hand to help you onto the ice.

“Oh my God, it’s so slippery. I’m going to die,” you murmur as you put one foot on the ice.

Franco laughs softly. “Baby, it’s an ice rink, and I’m right here. Relax.”

You grab his arms immediately, refusing to let go. “I’m warning you, if I fall, I’m killing you.”

“If you fall, we’ll fall together. It’ll be romantic,” he teases.

With a lot of effort and you clinging to him like an octopus, you move slowly on the ice. Franco chuckles as he guides you. “Baby, you know you’re supposed to move your feet, right? You’re just hanging onto me.”

“I’m moving my feet, you liar! It’s just… Aaaah, that guy’s going to run into us!”

A fast skater passes by, and you panic, losing your balance.

As you slide backward, Franco tries to catch you but loses his balance too, and you both end up on the ground, laughing uncontrollably.

“I told you I was going to fall!” you say between laughs.

“Yeah, but you could’ve avoided dragging me down with you!” He laughs too, lying on the ice.

Emma, having seen the whole scene, approaches slowly with the helper’s help.

“Auntie Y/N! Uncle Fran! Why are you on the ground?”

You try to get up, still laughing. “Because your Uncle Fran is terrible at skating.”

“Hey! You fell first!” Franco retorts, helping you get back up.

He rubs your back, concerned despite his smile.

“You didn’t hurt yourself, did you?”

You shake your head. “No, I’m fine. Just my ego.”

“Your ego can take it. But let’s call it a day, okay?”

You both make your way to the edge of the rink while Emma continues to skate joyfully with the helper. Your cheeks are still red, and you glance at Franco.

“I hate you for making me do that.”

He plants a kiss on your temple, smiling.

“No, you love me.”

“Hmm… Maybe. But don’t expect me to get back on that ice.”

Franco smiles, wrapping his arm around your shoulders as you both watch Emma laugh and skate, full of energy.

After their crazy day at the mall and the ice rink, Franco, Emma, and you finally make it back home. Emma’s cheeks are still rosy from the cold, but she’s buzzing with energy, even after everything. Franco’s got her in his arms, and she’s wiggling around happily.

“Uncle Franco, do you think we can have some candy before dinner?” she asks, eyes wide with hope.

Franco grins, teasing. “Candy? Well, you know, candy are only for good kids mi amor. Are you sure you’ve been good today?”

Emma pulls the most adorable pout. “Yes! I’ve been good!”

You can’t help but laugh as you take off your coat, watching their back-and-forth. “Franco, stop messing with her, she’s been perfect all day. Plus, you’re the first one to cave when she gives you those puppy eyes.”

He raises an eyebrow at you, still playful. “Hey, it’s not my fault she has your look. How am I supposed to resist?”

While Emma settles in the living room with some toys, you and Franco get started on dinner in the kitchen. You’re chopping veggies while he’s distracted, digging around in the fridge. But it’s clear his mind’s not really on food. When he shuts the fridge door, you can feel him right behind you before he even says a word.

Without looking back, you call out, “Franco, I know you’re there. Don’t even think about it, I’m busy.”

“Me? I just wanted to… watch,” he says in a teasing, innocent voice.

You feel his hands rest lightly on your hips, and he leans in close to your ear, his voice low and soft. “But honestly, babe, after a day like today, I think I deserve a little reward.”

You roll your eyes, a playful smile on your lips. Holding your knife, you turn slightly towards him. “Franco, Emma is literally three feet away. Can you calm down a bit?”

“Calm? Me? Baby, I’m perfectly calm.” His hands glide gently over your hips, pulling you a little closer to him.

You feel his warm breath on your neck as he adds in a more provocative tone, “But you know, I missed you, and it’s your fault. With you in the same room as me… How am I supposed to stay focused?”

A soft laugh escapes you, though you try to keep a straight face. “Franco, let go of me. And stop with your nonsense before I cut you off a finger.”

He leans in further to plant a light kiss just below your ear, making your cheeks heat up. “Oh, I promise I can distract you in a much more fun way…”

Blushing, you say, “Franco!” before turning completely around to try to push him away. But he stays right where he is, that cocky grin you know so well on his lips.

“What? I’m just trying to help…” He glances down at the cutting board, then back up at you, amused. “But honestly, cutting carrots isn’t really my thing. I prefer when you do other things with your hands…”

You’re left speechless, shocked by his insinuation, but before you can respond, he bursts out laughing.

“Franco, I swear, if you keep this up, you’re sleeping on the couch tonight,” you say, crossing your arms.

He tilts his head with a charming smile. “On the couch? Oh, babe, you know I can’t sleep far from you.”

He moves even closer, his lips almost brushing yours. “And neither can you,” he whispers.

You roll your eyes, but he sees your smile starting to give away your amusement. “You’re impossible, do you know that?”

“Oh, I know. But admit it, that’s why you love me.”

Before you can reply, he captures your lips in a soft kiss that quickly turns more passionate. You both completely forget where you are.

A little voice suddenly rings out from the kitchen entrance. “Ewwww!”

You both jump apart, caught red-handed. Emma stands in the doorway, hands on her hips, with an exaggerated grimace.

“What are you doing? Why are you kissing like that? It’s disgusting!”

Franco takes a small step back, a mischievous smile on his lips, while you turn bright red. “Nothing at all, Emma. Uncle Franco is just… annoying,” you quickly reply.

Emma, narrowing her eyes, asks curiously, “Annoying? Why? Did he steal a candy?”

Franco laughs and crouches down to Emma’s level. “No, little princess, it’s because your Aunt Y/N is really beautiful, and I love giving her kisses. And even though she pretends otherwise, I promise you she loves when—”

A well-placed dish towel smacks him on the shoulder, and interrupts his sentence. He rubs his shoulder, laughing out loud, before adding, “Plus, you see, princess. If I had stolen a candy, I’m sure Aunt Y/N would have already punished me.”

You hold your head in your hands, tired of his antics, while Emma looks at him skeptically before changing the subject.

“I’m hungry. Is it ready?”

“Not yet, sweetheart. Give us five minutes,” you say with a smile.

She nods and heads back to the living room, but not without a final warning. “Uncle Fran, be careful. If you bother Aunt too much, I’ll tell Santa.”

Franco raises his hands, amused. “Promise, princess, I’ll be good.”

You shake your head with a mix of amusement and frustration. “See what you’ve done? Even Emma is wary of you now.”

He shrugs. “But baby, I can also try to be really good with you… but I’m not sure you’ll like that version.”

You give him a light elbow in the ribs, but your laughter betrays you—despite everything, you adore him

After dinner, you all crash on the couch.

“Auntie Y/N, can we watch Frozen?” Emma asks, her big eyes all hopeful, her stuffed animal gripped tight like it’s her lifeline.

You laugh, shaking your head.

“Again? Haven’t we watched it, like, ten times already this year?”

Franco, clearly enjoying this, jumps in.

“Come on, babe, don’t be a buzzkill. Let It Go is a masterpiece. I’m all in.”

You look at him, half amused, half annoyed.

“Really, Franco? Don’t encourage her, she’ll want to watch it three times tonight.”

Franco grins and winks at you.

“I’m ready to duet with her if that’ll win you over.”

Emma bursts out laughing, clapping her hands.

“Yes, Uncle Fran, sing with me!”

You roll your eyes but give in anyway.

“Alright, alright. But you two watch and sing, and I’ll just chill and nap through it like always.”

You all settle on the couch: Franco in the middle, you on his left, and Emma on his right, all snuggled up with her stuffed animal. The movie starts, and Emma is totally hooked from the opening scene. Franco, though, keeps sneaking glances at you, grinning as you try not to give in to the song.

Franco, whispering: “Admit it, you’re gonna get up and dance when Elsa sings.”

You glance at him, not buying it.

“In your dreams, Colapinto.”

“Oh, trust me, my dreams are way better than that.”

You nudge him playfully, but he grabs your hand and kisses it gently, still smiling.

“Ugh, stop kissing!” Emma says, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

You laugh out loud, and Franco raises his hands in mock surrender.

“Okay, princess, no more kisses in front of you. Promise.”

Emma nods happily and turns back to the movie.

As the movie goes on, Emma starts blinking slowly, her energy fading fast. You’ve leaned your head against Franco’s shoulder, half asleep yourself. Franco wraps an arm around your waist, the other one around Emma, who’s finally asleep against him, her stuffed animal still clutched tight.

Franco, whispering, glancing at you: “She’s pretty cute, huh?”

You close your eyes, barely mumbling.

“Yeah, she is. You’re not too bad as Uncle Fran either.”

Franco smiles softly and plants a kiss on top of your head.

Soon enough, all three of you are knocked out.

An hour later, your brother arrives, using his spare key after knocking with no answer. He freezes when he walks in, seeing you and Franco both out cold on the couch, with Emma curled up between you two, her stuffed animal still held close.

He stands there for a second, just watching, a soft smile on his face. Finally, you wake up a little, hearing a noise. You open your eyes, confused, and jump when you see your brother.

“Whoa, you scared me!” you whisper, panicked.

Your brother grins and says, “I’m here to pick up Emma. But… honestly, you guys are cute like this.”

Blushing, you sit up carefully so you don’t wake Emma.

“I’ll wake Franco.”

You shake him lightly, and he blinks his eyes open, looking half-dazed.

“What? What’s going on? Let me sleep a bit longer, please…”

You laugh, saying, “Wake up, my brother’s here to get Emma.”

Franco slowly sits up, but Emma, still asleep, clings to him like a little koala.

“No… stay…” she mumbles, half awake.

Franco gives you a soft look and smiles.

“I’ll carry her to the car.”

Franco walks your brother to the car with Emma in his arms. She stirs a little but doesn’t wake fully, and Franco takes advantage of that to buckle her into the car seat without a fight.

Your brother, smiling, says, “Thanks for watching her. She had a great day.”

Franco, grinning: “It was fun. She’s awesome, your little one.”

Just before leaving, your brother adds, “Hey, you guys mind keeping her next weekend? Just for a night?”

Before you can answer, Franco jumps in.

“Of course! We’d love to!”

You chuckle and shake your head.

“He’s gonna steal her from you, watch out.”

You all laugh before saying goodbyes.

When you and Franco finally got home, you were completely exhausted. Franco shut the door behind you, kicking off his shoes with a sigh of relief, while you collapsed on the couch, arms spread out like you’d just finished a marathon.

“Man, I didn’t think a five-year-old could be so… energetic.”

Franco flopped down next to you.

“She’s adorable, but yeah… I’m wiped. How does your brother survive every day? Does he have special training or something?”

You burst out laughing, resting your head on his shoulder.

“It must be in their DNA. I still haven’t recovered from today.”

Franco wrapped an arm around you, a mischievous grin on his face.

“So, Colapinto, you thinking about starting a career in babysitting?”

“Maybe. I mean, I’m pretty good at it.”

“Admit it, you’re a little jealous that Emma preferred me. She wanted to hang out with Uncle Fran all day.”

You rolled your eyes.

“Oh, stop. She liked you because you spoiled her. Mr. ‘I’ll skate, sing Let It Go, and have a tea party dressed as a princess with an Elsa headband.’ I can’t compete with that.”

Franco, amused, protested.

“What?! I looked amazing in that headband, and you know it.”

“Amazing, maybe. Ridiculous, definitely.”

You both burst into laughter, your shoulders shaking with exhaustion. Franco turned slightly toward you, his playful look softening into something more serious.

“Honestly, though, I had a great day. Emma’s awesome. But you weren’t bad either. Even though you freaked out on the ice and ended up falling into me.”

You gave him a mockingly outraged slap on the arm.

Franco gave you a heated look.

“What? I’m just saying you were irresistible. You remember on the ice? Clinging to me like your life depended on it? It was almost sexy, babe.”

“Stop teasing me! I thought we were gonna die out there!”

Franco smiled, one corner of his mouth twitching up.

“Die? A little dramatic, don’t you think?”

Blushing, you snapped back.

“Stop it! And I remind you, it’s your fault we fell.”

“Me?! Baby, I was holding you, but you panicked like we were about to die. You were literally clinging to me like I was your last hope.”

You gave him a soft tap on the shoulder.

“Well, you were supposed to be my last hope, Mr. Know-It-All.”

You both laughed again, but this time, the laughter faded, leaving a softer silence between you. Franco looked at you, his teasing expression giving way to something more serious.

“You know… watching her today, playing with her… it got me thinking.”

You looked at him curiously.

“Thinking about what?”

“About us. Maybe one day. Not now, obviously! I know it’s not the time. But… have you ever imagined yourself, you know, with a kid?”

You paused for a moment, your face showing a mix of surprise and tenderness.

“Honestly… I don’t know. It’s scary, right? Being a parent, it’s so much responsibility. And look at me, I couldn’t even convince a little girl to put on her hat properly today.”

Franco smiled softly, running a hand through his hair.

“Yeah, but you’d be amazing. Seriously. You have this way of making everything seem easier. Even today, with Emma, you were great.”

To lighten the mood, you teased him.

“Great? Are you sure we lived through the same day?”

“Absolutely. You were sweet, caring… a little panicked on the ice, but hey, nobody’s perfect.”

You laughed, nudging him lightly.

“And you? Mr. Perfect Uncle Fran. You really see yourself as a dad?”

Franco took a deep breath, thinking it over.

“Yeah… I think I could be. Today, when Emma looked at me with those big eyes and asked if I could carry her… it was like I really mattered to her, you know? And… I liked it.”

You looked at him, a soft smile pulling at your lips.

“You know, you’d be a really great dad.”

Franco turned his head toward you, a playful glint in his eyes.

“Is that a subtle way of telling me something, babe?”

You laughed quietly, shaking your head.

“No, not yet. But I see it, you’ve got a way with kids. She adores you. And you were amazing with her. I think you’d be an incredible dad.”

Franco shrugged, feigning indifference.

“Of course I would be. With you by my side, we’d make an awesome team.”

You gave him an amused look.

“You really know how to flatter a girl, huh?”

Franco gently pulled you closer.

“I’m just telling the truth. And who knows? Maybe one day, our little boy or girl will beg you to sing Let It Go with me.”

You burst into laughter, resting your head against his chest.

“If that happens, we’ll have to wait a while. For now, we’ve got a lot on our plates. But maybe one day…”

Franco kissed your forehead, gently squeezing your hand.

“One day, then. But only if you promise not to freak out on the ice in front of our future kid.”

“Promise… but only if you promise never to wear an Elsa headband again.”

You both laughed again, and you snuggled a little closer to him. The day had been long, but in this quiet moment, everything felt just right. Together.

[salemahn]

Home is Where the Heart Is

Pairing: Max Verstappen x Reader

Summary: You’re very excited to redecorate, and Max is absolutely smitten.

1k words / Masterlist

Your phone vibrates on the coffee table, the screen lighting up with a new message. It’s Max, of course. He had to run out for a few hours, some training before his next race, but he promised he’d be back in time to help with the culmination of your decorating project.

On my way. Ready to hang up those weird plant things you ordered. followed by a laughing emoji.

You can’t help but chuckle. Max had poked fun at your excitement the entire week. You’d been planning this makeover for so long and now that everything was finally coming together you could hardly contain your enthusiasm. You had spent ages scrolling through home decor websites, adding things to your cart with gleeful abandon. Colour swatches were scattered across the floor, paint samples were smeared on the walls. The new shelves, throw pillows, and, yes, the complicated plant hangers he loved to mock, were all waiting in the corner of the living room.

"Okay, well they're not weird, they're aesthetic," you mutter to yourself, smiling as you look at the hanging baskets you’d planned to fill with greenery.

Just as you’re untangling the macrame ropes for the third time, the front door swings open, and Max walks in. He’s wearing that relaxed, post-training glow, one you’ve come to associate with this calm, off-track version of himself.

“Hey you,” he calls out, dropping his keys on the table. His eyes roam the living room, his lips curling into a grin. “So… what are we hanging first?”

You barely register his question as you concentrate on an imaginary layout in your head. "Do you think the sofa should stay in the centre, or should we move it to towards the window?"

Max walks over and stands next to you, pretending to study the space like he’s an expert. "Definitely the centre,” he says after a pause, though it’s clear he hasn’t actually thought about it.

You narrow your eyes at him. "You’re just saying that so we can be done faster."

Max’s grin widens, completely unbothered. "I might not care about throw pillows as much as you do, but I’m here to help. You’ve got my full attention."

“You underestimate the complexity of decorating,” you said with a grin. “It’s an art form.”

He bends down and kisses your cheek, his stubble brushing against your skin as he hovers a second longer than necessary. He walks back and leans back against the wall crossing his arms with a teasing smile. “Promise I’ll bring my A-game."

You shake your head, feigning exasperation, but you’re secretly thrilled to have him here. "I want this room to be perfect," you say, more to yourself than to him.

Max looks at you with soft eyes. "It’s already perfect."

"Max…" you groan, "the couch isn’t even in the right spot!"

"You know what I mean."

Your heart does a funny little flip at his words, but you push it aside for now. "Okay, so this first," you announce, grabbing the ropes and handing them to him.

He takes them reluctantly, staring at the pile in his hands like they might start moving on their own. "Are you sure about these?"

You giggle, reaching for the small hook you bought for the ceiling. "Of course. Plants are a must. Greenery is very calming you know."

Max raises an eyebrow, clearly skeptical. "You’ve seen my old apartment right? No plants there and I was pretty calm."

"You’re calm on the outside, but inside you’re one bad plant decision away from chaos."

He laughs at that, the sound warming the space instantly. “Fine, fine. Where are we putting them?”

You point to the corner near the window, excitedly showing him the exact spot.

As Max climbs up to attach the hook to the ceiling, you sit back on your knees, looking around the half-decorated room. The shelves are still leaning against the wall, the box of candles untouched, and the cushions… well, they’re scattered everywhere. But you can already picture it in your mind, your perfect little sanctuary.

He finally gets the hook in place and hangs the first rope. Stepping back to admire his work and gesturing towards it.

You clap your hands together. “It’s perfect!”

Max shakes his head, chuckling. “You’re way too excited about this.”

"I just love how everything’s coming together," you say, getting up to wrap your arms around his waist from behind. He’s warm, solid, and his familiar scent fills the air, making the room feel even more like home.

The room starts to take shape, and with each new addition Max’s admiration for you grows more than he thought possible. He’d occasionally step back to admire your work, his gaze lingering on you with a look of pure adoration.

Max leans into you from behind, his arms resting over yours. “I like seeing you like this.”

“Like what?”

“Happy,” he says.

You smile up at him, “I am happy. Especially now that you’re here.”

He turns you around in your arms, catching you off guard as his eyes meet yours. There’s that familiar spark of mischief. “You know, I never thought I’d spend my afternoon hanging plants or arranging cushions,” he nods vaguely towards the room, “but if it makes you this excited, I guess it’s worth it.”

“You are so cute,” you tease.

He reaches out, brushing a stray lock of hair from your face, “Well, you’ve certainly outdone yourself."

You stand there in the middle of your half-finished living room, surrounded by unpacked decorations and the future plans you’ve been obsessing over. But for a moment, it all fades away as Max leans in and kisses you, soft and slow, like you’re the only thing he wants to focus on.

When he finally pulls back, he cups your face in his hands, his eyes locking with yours. “You’ve made this place beautiful, and it’s all the more special because you’re in it.” Your heart flutters, touched by the sincerity in his voice. His hand gently strokes your cheek. "So, what’s next?" he teases.

You laugh, resting your head against his chest. "Maybe we can take a break… but just for a little while.”

Max pulls you closer, wrapping his arms around you. “Take all the time you need. This place already feels like home.”

[salemahn]

Cregan loves it when you (fill in this blank with whatever your heart desires)

I've got a very specific answer for this bc i gotta provide an example of what I mean.

Now, Cregan loves it when you're playful with him. And I don't mean little jokes here and there or cute banter, I mean more of him actually seeing her be somewhat silly, be just his wife in the moment. In the eyes of the North, Lady Stark is a vision of poise and strength (she has to be ofc, with winter coming and all). But sometimes, Cregan really can see that sweet, spirited side of his love.

He could be on his way back to your chambers after a very long day---although he's actually earlier than usual. He's feeling utterly spent and is truthfully ready to just lie down face first and not get up ever again. But he walks in and there you are. Standing in the middle of the room, his own armor drooping and slithering off you. Truth be told, this is an extremely rare, unguarded moment. Cregan had never expected you to do this in a thousand years.

A noble woman, raised with highborn ideals and a certain level of propriety. And yet, here you were, frozen after being caught playing in his clothes like a child. Everyone does peculiar things in private, but this was something he seriously did not see coming. The first thing he's going to do is laugh. And then he'll admire. You're being yourself, not what's expected of you, and he loves that you feel safe enough that you don't even deny your activity. After that, he'll likely help you get everything on right and fastened nicely. Then he'll laugh again because of how ridiculous it all is. you might even get to hold ice if your impression of him is good

[salemahn]

Malfunction

Franco Colapinto x physician!Reader

Summary: Franco’s concussion has come and gone, but his desire to see the angel of a physician who likely saved his life has only gotten stronger … it’s just a shame that he tends to lose any semblance of composure when you’re around

Note: this is the much requested second part to Malpractice … but even better than the first part if I do say so myself 🫣

The Las Vegas Grand Prix is a distant blur in Franco’s memory. The crash. The pain. The disorientation.

But there’s something else that lingers, too. Something soft that refuses to leave him alone.

It’s the image of you, kneeling in front of him, your hands steady even as his world spun. Your voice cutting through the haze, your gaze sharp and intense, demanding his attention. The way you pushed him to stay alert, to pay attention, to focus on something other than the chaos in his head.

Franco knows he owes his sanity, maybe even his life, to you.

It’s been a week since the crash, and he’s been cleared by the medical team to race again in Qatar, despite a lingering headache that’s been stubbornly hanging on. But it’s not the headache that’s bothering him. It’s the fact that you’re not here. You’re not at the track. Not in the garage. Not hovering over him like some kind of guardian angel.

He wants to see you again. Needs to.

He’s sitting in the Williams debrief room, surrounded by engineers who are talking a mile a minute about tire wear and lap times. But Franco is barely listening. He keeps checking his phone, hoping for some sort of miracle: a text, a call, anything that might tell him you’re here. That you’ve returned to the paddock.

But the screen stays empty.

“Franco, are you with us?” James Vowles’ voice cuts through his thoughts, snapping him back to the present.

“Yeah, sorry,” Franco mutters, rubbing his eyes. “What were you saying about tire strategy?”

James raises an eyebrow. “It’s fine. Focus on your recovery. We’re just going over the data from today’s practice. You’ve got time. But-” He looks around, making sure no one else is listening, “-don’t be distracted during qualifying tomorrow. We need every bit of performance we can get from you this weekend.”

“Right.” Franco nods, but his mind drifts again, his gaze slipping back to his phone. It’s like the rhythm of the weekend has been broken without you here, without the sharpness of your voice telling him he’s being an idiot, without your soft, steady presence making everything feel a little more manageable.

A soft knock sounds at the door, and Alex steps in, his casual smile immediately making the room feel a little lighter. His eyes flicker over to Franco. “How’s it going, mate?”

Franco immediately perks up. “Alex! You’re a sight for sore eyes.” He straightens up in his chair, suddenly interested in the conversation.

Alex raises an eyebrow, clearly amused. “Is that because you’ve missed me, or because I bring good news?”

“Both,” Franco grins. “But seriously, I’ve been thinking about something, and I need your help.”

Alex folds his arms, giving Franco a knowing look. “Uh oh. What have you gotten yourself into now?”

“It’s about Y/N,” Franco says, leaning forward with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

Alex’s eyebrows shoot up, but he doesn’t seem too surprised. He sighs, already knowing where this is headed. “Ah, I should’ve known.”

“No, listen,” Franco presses, his voice a little more serious. “I need her to come to Abu Dhabi. She has to be there. I-” He pauses, trying to put his feelings into words. “I’ve been thinking about her all week. I just … I need to see her again.”

Alex raises both hands in mock surrender. “Whoa, whoa. Slow down. You want me to convince her to come to a race just so you can see her again?”

Franco shrugs, looking entirely unapologetic. “Yeah. Pretty much.”

Alex shakes his head, a bemused smile tugging at his lips. “You really have it bad, don’t you?”

Franco hesitates, his smile faltering just slightly, then nods. “I do.” His expression softens. “She helped me when I didn’t even know what was happening. I’ve never had someone take care of me like that.”

Alex takes a moment, studying Franco’s face, then lets out a long breath. “Look, I can’t make any promises. Y/N’s a resident physician. Her schedule is insane. She barely has time to breathe, let alone fly out to the Middle East for a race. But-” He hesitates, as if weighing his next words carefully. “But I’ll ask her. I’ll see what I can do. But no promises, okay?”

“Just ask,” Franco says urgently. “I don’t care if it’s a long shot. I need her there.”

Alex chuckles, shaking his head. “Alright, alright. I’ll ask. But you owe me a beer if this works.”

“You got it,” Franco grins, already feeling the relief of having put his request into motion. “Thanks.”

***

It’s late by the time you’re wrapping up your shift at the hospital. The weight of your scrubs feels heavier than usual tonight, your body aching after hours of rounds and consultations. You’ve barely slept all week, the demands of your residency taking up every last ounce of energy. All you want to do now is crash into bed and forget about the world for a few hours.

But then your phone buzzes in your pocket, and the familiar name on the screen makes you stop in your tracks.

Alex.

You sigh, glancing around the empty hallway before answering. “Hey, Alex. What’s up?”

“Hey,” Alex greets you, his tone casual but there’s a hint of something else in his voice. “How’s it going?”

You roll your eyes, leaning against the wall. “You know, same old. Patients, paperwork, more patients. I swear, I’m starting to see people’s illnesses in my dreams at this point. What’s up?”

“Well, funny you should mention that,” Alex says with a chuckle, “because I’ve got a bit of a favor to ask.”

You brace yourself. “What now?”

“I need you to come to Abu Dhabi.”

There’s a beat of silence. “What? No. I can’t just drop everything and fly to Abu Dhabi. You know how insane my schedule is right now.”

“I know, I know,” Alex says quickly. “But listen, it’s not for me. It’s for Franco.”

You blink, unsure if you heard him right. “Franco? What does he have to do with this?”

“He, uh, well, he’s been asking about you. He really wants you to come. He … he kind of needs you there, Y/N.”

You frown. “Needs me? What, like for a medical emergency?”

“No, no,” Alex quickly reassures you. “It’s not like that. He’s just — he’s been a bit, you know, off since the crash. He keeps talking about how much you helped him, how much he needs to see you again. He’s … kinda, well, taken with you.”

You pause, processing the unexpected request. “Wait. You want me to go to Abu Dhabi just to … see Franco?”

Alex sighs. “I know it’s a lot to ask, and I totally get it if you can’t make it. I just thought I’d put it out there, because he’s really … well, he’s really worried about seeing you again.”

You take a deep breath, staring at the floor. There’s a tug at your chest. Franco’s crash. The way he looked when he stumbled into the garage, his eyes unfocused, his voice thick with concussion. And how you couldn’t help but care, couldn’t help but feel something stir in your chest as you took care of him.

“I don’t know,” you say softly. “I don’t know if I can get time off. I’ve got a million things to do.”

“Please,” Alex pleads, his tone sincere. “Just think about it. I’ll take care of the rest. You don’t have to worry about anything. Just — just come for the weekend. For him.”

You hesitate for a long moment. Your exhaustion is overwhelming, but so is the pull to be there for Franco, to check in on him after everything that happened.

“Okay,” you say finally, your voice quiet but firm. “I’ll see what I can do.”

Alex lets out a relieved breath. “Thank you. You have no idea how much this means to him.”

“I’ll talk to my supervisor tomorrow and see if I can get a couple of days off. I’ll let you know.”

“Great. I’ll keep you posted. Thanks again, really.”

As the call ends, you press the phone to your ear, staring at the blank hospital hallway. Something in your chest stirs, a mix of curiosity and something else you can’t quite name. You promised yourself you wouldn’t get involved with any of these drivers. But Franco … there’s something about him. Something you can’t shake.

You don’t know what’s going to happen in Abu Dhabi. But you know one thing for sure: you’re going to see him again.

***

Franco is buzzing with energy as he walks away from the Williams garage after FP2. The track is alive with its usual Friday hum: team radios squawking, mechanics wheeling equipment, fans pressing against barricades for a glimpse of the action. Normally, this is his favorite part of the weekend — the calm between sessions when he can breathe and think through what’s next.

But today, his thoughts are miles away.

You.

Alex told him you’d agreed to come. He’s spent all week mentally preparing for this moment, imagining what he’ll say when he sees you again. He’d told himself he’d play it cool. That he wouldn’t come off as desperate or weird. That he’d be charming and effortless.

And now, as he walks toward the Williams motorhome, he’s running through those lines in his head like a script. But then, through the glass doors of the motorhome, he spots you.

You’re sitting at a table with Lily, wine glasses between you. You’re mid-laugh, one hand lightly gesturing, the other wrapped around the stem of your glass. The sound of your laugh doesn’t reach him, but your expression — warm and animated — is enough to stop him in his tracks.

Franco stares, frozen. For a second, he’s not a professional driver or a smooth-talking twenty-one-year-old. He’s just a guy, floored by the sight of someone he’s been thinking about far too much.

And then, because the universe has a cruel sense of humor, he walks straight into the glass door.

The sound is embarrassingly loud — a deep, resonant thud that draws the attention of a couple of mechanics nearby. Franco stumbles back, clutching his forehead as the door wobbles slightly on its hinges.

“Oh, come on,” he mutters under his breath, blinking rapidly to clear the stars dancing in his vision.

Inside, Lily gasps, already half out of her chair. But you — you just press a hand to your mouth, visibly trying to suppress a laugh.

Franco pushes the door open this time (successfully, thank God) and steps into the motorhome, trying to salvage whatever remains of his dignity.

“Didn’t know the motorhome was defending itself today,” he says, flashing a crooked grin as he rubs his forehead.

You’re still smiling, but there’s a glint in your eyes as you take a sip of wine. “I see you’re still finding creative ways to injure yourself.”

Lily, standing now, gives him a once-over. “Are you okay? That sounded bad.”

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” Franco says quickly, though he’s still holding his head. “Just testing the structural integrity of the door. Very solid. Great engineering.”

Lily rolls her eyes, muttering something about grabbing an ice pack before disappearing into the kitchen.

You lean back in your chair, tilting your head as you look at him. “You know, you really don’t have to keep hurting yourself just to get my attention. There are easier ways.”

Franco blinks, momentarily thrown off by the teasing edge in your voice. But then he recovers, his grin widening. “Oh, so you noticed me, huh? Mission accomplished.”

You arch an eyebrow, unimpressed. “Hard not to notice when someone face-plants into a door.”

“Ouch,” Franco says, clutching his chest dramatically. “First my head, now my ego. You’re ruthless.”

You laugh, setting your glass down. “I’m a doctor. I call it like I see it.”

“And what do you see?” He asks, leaning casually against the doorframe (or at least trying to — he slightly misjudges the angle and has to correct himself, which makes him look anything but casual).

“I see someone who might need another concussion test if they keep this up,” you say dryly, though there’s a hint of amusement in your tone.

Franco seizes the opening. “Oh, you’ll give me a test? What, right here? Should I sit down? Or maybe lie down? Whatever you need, angel, I’m ready.”

You roll your eyes, but the corners of your mouth twitch. “I’m off-duty, thank you very much. And stop calling me angel.”

“Why? It suits you,” Franco says without missing a beat. He steps closer, his grin turning just a bit sheepish. “You did save me, after all.”

“From driving with a concussion,” you reply, crossing your arms.

“Still counts,” he says, shrugging. “So … you’re really here. Thought maybe Alex was messing with me.”

You tilt your head, watching him carefully. “Why would he do that?”

“I don’t know, for fun? He likes to mess with me,” Franco says, his grin turning rueful. “But I’m glad he wasn’t. It’s … it’s good to see you.”

Your expression softens, and you glance down briefly before meeting his eyes again. “It’s good to see you too.”

For a moment, there’s a silence between you. Not awkward, but charged. Franco shifts his weight, scratching the back of his neck. He’s been preparing for this moment all week, but now that you’re standing in front of him, he’s at a loss.

Lily reappears then, an ice pack in hand. She tosses it to Franco, who catches it against his chest. “Here,” she says. “For the door-shaped bruise you’re probably going to have.”

“Thanks,” Franco says, pressing the pack to his forehead. He winces slightly but keeps his gaze on you.

Lily looks between the two of you, her lips twitching as if she’s trying not to laugh. “Well, I’ll leave you two to … whatever this is,” she says, grabbing her glass and retreating toward the other end of the motorhome.

Franco watches her go, then looks back at you, his smile softening. “So … you’re here for the whole weekend?”

You nod. “Lily convinced me to stay. Said I needed a break.”

“You do,” Franco says quickly. “Definitely. Big time.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Oh? And why’s that?”

“Because …” Franco hesitates, then decides to go for it. “Because I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you since Vegas.”

You blink, caught off guard by his honesty. “Franco-”

“I’m serious,” he interrupts, stepping closer. “I know I’m probably coming off like a total idiot right now, but I don’t care. You-” He gestures vaguely, as if struggling to find the right words. “You’re different. You’re not like anyone else here.”

“That’s because I’m not supposed to be here,” you say, your tone light but your eyes searching his. “I’m a doctor, Franco. Not meant for … whatever this world is.”

“Doesn’t matter,” he says, shaking his head. “You could be anything, and I’d still want to know you. You’re …” He trails off, then laughs at himself. “God, I’m bad at this.”

You laugh too, finally relaxing. “A little, yeah.”

“But I’m trying,” he says, his expression earnest now. “And I’ll keep trying, even if it means walking into more doors. Or walls. Or whatever else gets in my way.”

You shake your head, exasperated but undeniably charmed. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Ridiculously into you,” Franco counters, grinning.

You groan, but your smile betrays you. “Stop. That was awful.”

“Was it?” Hr teases, leaning just slightly closer.

“Yes,” you say firmly, though there’s a hint of laughter in your voice. “And I’m not letting you use your injuries as an excuse to flirt with me.”

“Then what excuse should I use?” He asks, tilting his head.

You roll your eyes, but you’re smiling now. “How about none? Just be normal.”

“Normal,” Franco repeats, as if testing the word. “Okay. I can do that. Probably.”

“Somehow, I doubt it,” you say, but your tone is lighter now, your guard lowering just a fraction.

Franco grins, sensing the shift. He might not be smooth, but he’s persistent. And right now, that feels like enough.

***

The hospital hums with its usual rhythm: the sharp beeps of monitors, the steady shuffle of footsteps, and the occasional murmur of voices echoing down sterile hallways. You’re halfway through your shift, mentally cataloging a growing to-do list, when one of the nurses finds you near the break room.

She looks far too amused for your liking, a sly smile playing at the corners of her mouth. “Hey, Doc,” she says, her tone conspiratorial. “You’ve got a patient in Room 43. Interesting case. File’s by the door.”

You glance up from your notes, immediately suspicious. “Interesting how?”

“Let’s just say … not your usual trauma,” she replies, her grin widening. “Go see for yourself.”

With a sigh, you grab your tablet and head down the hallway. You’re too tired to entertain the nurse’s cryptic humor, but curiosity tugs at you anyway. When you reach Room 43, you spot the chart hanging by the door. You pick it up and start skimming, your brain automatically processing the medical shorthand.

And then your eyes land on the complaint: penile fracture.

You freeze. Your brain short-circuits for a good five seconds.

Penile fracture. Seriously? You take a deep breath, fighting the urge to laugh or groan. It’s not unheard of, but it’s rare enough to make your day a little more … colorful.

Squaring your shoulders, you prepare yourself for what’s undoubtedly going to be an awkward encounter. Professionalism, you remind yourself. You’ve handled weirder cases.

But all of that resolve shatters the second you open the door and step into the room.

Because the patient isn’t some anonymous stranger.

It’s Franco.

Franco, lounging on the exam table like he doesn’t have a care in the world, scrolling through his phone with his free hand. Franco, the same man you’ve been dating for months, who absolutely should not be in this hospital room right now.

Your mouth opens, ready to deliver your standard introduction, but no words come out.

Franco looks up at the sound of the door, his face breaking into that familiar, devilish grin. “Hey, angel.”

“What the-” You stop yourself, gripping the edge of the clipboard like it’s the only thing tethering you to reality. “Franco, what are you doing here?”

He sets his phone down, looking at you with wide, innocent eyes. “I’m a patient. Clearly.”

You take a deep breath, setting the clipboard aside. “Please tell me you’re joking.”

“Nope.” He leans back slightly, gesturing toward himself with both hands. “Broken dick. You saw the file.”

Your jaw tightens as you step closer, lowering your voice. “Franco, this is a hospital. You can’t just-”

“I didn’t just anything,” he cuts in, feigning indignation. “I’m here because you abandoned me this morning. And now I’m suffering.”

You blink at him, completely thrown. “Suffering?”

“Yes!” He says, sitting up straighter, though the smirk tugging at his lips betrays any attempt at seriousness. “You left me. Alone. In bed. With …” He lowers his voice dramatically. “An issue.”

Your brain scrambles to keep up. “An issue?”

Franco sighs, as though the weight of the world is on his shoulders. “Blue balls. A raging, unresolved situation. You’re a doctor — you know how dangerous that can be.”

“Dangerous?” Your voice rises slightly before you catch yourself. “Franco, I left because I had to come to work. Like a normal person.”

“Right, but normal people don’t leave their boyfriends high and dry,” he argues, his tone edging into the realm of petulant. “Do you know how much it hurts? It’s practically a medical emergency.”

You close your eyes for a moment, pinching the bridge of your nose. “So let me get this straight,” you say slowly. “You’re here because you have blue balls. And instead of — oh, I don’t know — handling it with your hand and some lotion like a grown adult, you decided to come to my workplace and waste everyone’s time?”

“I don’t see it as wasting time,” Franco says, crossing his arms. “I see it as seeking expert care. From a very qualified, very beautiful doctor.”

“Franco,” you say warningly, but he’s already grinning.

“Besides,” he continues, his voice dropping into a teasing lilt, “don’t you think it’s romantic? I’m literally willing to suffer for you.”

“Oh my God.” You press a hand to your forehead, feeling a mix of exasperation and disbelief. “You are not suffering. And this is not romantic — it’s ridiculous.”

“Ridiculously sweet,” Franco counters, clearly enjoying himself.

You stare at him, torn between wanting to strangle him and laugh. “You know I could get in trouble for this, right? What if someone finds out I’m treating my boyfriend? Or worse, that you’re faking a medical emergency?”

“I’m not faking,” he says quickly, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “The pain in my cock is very real.”

“Franco.” Your voice is flat, and you fix him with your best no-nonsense look.

He hesitates for a beat, then leans forward slightly, lowering his voice like he’s about to confess something scandalous. “Okay, maybe it isn’t a fracture. But it is painful!”

You throw your hands up, resisting the urge to laugh despite yourself. “Unbelievable. Absolutely unbelievable.”

Franco pouts, his lower lip sticking out in an exaggerated fashion. “Come on, angel. Don’t be mad. I just wanted to see you.”

“You couldn’t have waited until my shift was over?”

He shrugs. “What can I say? I’m impatient. And in my defense, you looked very cute leaving this morning.”

You sigh, shaking your head. “You’re impossible.”

“And yet, you love me,” he says, his grin widening.

“Don’t push your luck,” you warn, though there’s no real bite in your tone.

Franco leans back on the exam table, looking far too pleased with himself for someone who just disrupted your workday. “So … are you gonna examine me or what?”

You narrow your eyes at him. “Do you want me to call security? Because that’s where this is headed.”

“You wouldn’t,” he says, his confidence unwavering.

You cross your arms, raising an eyebrow. “Try me.”

Franco holds your gaze for a moment, then sighs dramatically, throwing his hands up in mock surrender. “Fine. No exam. But only because I value our relationship.”

“Uh-huh,” you say, not even trying to hide your sarcasm.

He grins again, the kind of grin that’s always been your undoing. “You can’t stay mad at me, angel. Admit it.”

You roll your eyes, but a smile tugs at the corners of your mouth despite your best efforts. “Franco, you’re lucky I like you. Otherwise, you’d be on your way out of here in handcuffs.”

His eyebrows shoot up, and he smirks. “Kinky.”

“Oh, for the love of-” You don’t bother finishing the sentence, turning toward the door instead.

“Wait, wait!” Franco calls after you, sliding off the exam table. “I’m kidding! Don’t go!”

You pause, looking back at him. He’s standing there with his hands in his pockets, his expression softer now. “Seriously,” he says. “I just … I missed you. And I thought maybe this would make you laugh. Or at least roll your eyes. Which it did, so … mission accomplished?”

You sigh, feeling your resolve waver. It’s hard to stay mad at him when he’s looking at you like that — like you’re the only person in the world who matters.

“Franco,” you say, your voice quieter now. “You can’t just show up like this. I have a job to do.”

“I know,” he says, stepping closer. “And I promise I won’t make a habit of it. But … can I take you to dinner after your shift? As an apology?”

You study him for a moment, weighing your options. Finally, you let out a small sigh. “Fine. But only if you promise to behave.”

“I promise,” he says quickly, holding a hand over his heart.

“And no more faking injuries,” you add, pointing a finger at him.

“Scout’s honor,” he says, though the mischievous glint in his eye suggests otherwise.

You shake your head, exasperated but smiling. “You’re unbelievable.”

“And yet, you keep me around,” he says, grinning.

“For now,” you say, opening the door. “Now get out of here before someone sees you.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Franco says, saluting playfully as he follows you into the hallway.

As he walks away, you can’t help but smile to yourself. Ridiculous as he is, there’s no denying that life with Franco is never boring.

[salemahn]

Swerved // OP81

| pairing: oscar piastri x reader

| summary: reader decides to prank her boyfriend by swerving all of his kisses throughout the day, curious as to how long it'll take until he has enough

| warnings: should be none

| authors note: hope you enjoy :))

The day started innocently enough, Oscar doing his usual of leaning over to kiss you good morning as his arm snakes around your waist to pull you closer. But instead of feeling his lips meet yours as they usually do, he was met with your cheek.

"Morning breath," you mumbled, removing his arm and slipping out of bed to head to the bathroom before he could give any protest.

He gave you an odd look, not used to you rejecting his morning kisses but let it slide anyways.

Later on, while you were in the kitchen preparing lunch, he began feeling particularly touch-starved, so he made his way over to you to try again. Slipping his arms around you from behind, he tries leaning down to capture your lips in a sweet kiss, only to be met with you turning your body at the last second so he only got your cheek.

"Just put on some lipgloss," you shrugged, pointing at the shiny pink tube sitting near the edge of the counter.

Oscar squinted at you in confusion, but didn't bother pressing the issue.

By evening though, you could tell your boyfriend's patience was wearing thin. Every time he leaned in for a kiss—whether it was a playful peck or searching for something more—you would straight up dodge him, give him an excuse or strategically time a movement to get out of the way. You bit your tongue to stop your laughs every time you saw the furrow in his brow or his cute little bunny teeth worry his lip in confusion.

Now, you found yourselves cuddled on the couch, your legs draped over his lap and your head leaning on his shoulder as some action movie played in the background. You were scrolling aimlessly on your phone, not bothering to pay attention to the tv, while his fingers lazily traced patterns along the side of your thigh.

It was the perfect moment for him to finally get what he had been searching for the whole day. Oscar tilted his head towards you, hand moving from your thigh to gently cup your cheek as he leaned in for a kiss. Deciding to mess with him a little more, you waited until your lips were just about to graze each other before turning your head, letting his lips brush against your ear.

That was his final straw...

Oscar abruptly pulled back, his expression a mix of disbelief, hurt and irritation. "Right then," he said, tone laced with mock seriousness, "Guess this is it then, eh? Guess I'll just go pack my stuff up and stay with Lando."

He shifted under you, as if to stand up and head to your room, moving to lift you off of his lap.

Giggling uncontrollably at this, you clung to him, wrapping your arms firmly around his neck and refusing to be moved. "No, no, no, don't go! It was just a prank, honey!"

"A prank?" he repeated slowly, as if he had never heard that word before, narrowing his eyes at you.

You nodded frantically, still laughing nervously as you kept your tight hold on him, "I just wanted to see how long it would take you to snap."

Oscar let out a pained groan, though you could see the smile tugging at his lips, "You're so cruel, you know that?"

Before you could even think about giving a cheeky response his hands shot to your sides, fingers digging into your ribs as he began his merciless attack of tickling you.

"No! Osc! Stop, please!" you let out a squeal, wiggling around in his lap unable to control your laughter.

"Never! This is revenge for messing with me all day long!" he responds, his own peals of laughter breaking through his voice as he continued his assault.

You gasped for air, tears of laughter streaming down your cheeks as you gave in, "Okay, okay, I'm sorry! I'll never refuse your kisses again!"

At this Oscar finally relented, pulling you back into your previous position against his chest as you both tried to catch your breath. He leaned down to press a kiss on your head.

"You're lucky I love you so much," he muttered into your hair.

"And you're lucky you're so cute when you're frustrated, honey." you teased, earning a playful glare before he leaned in for a long-awaited and long-deserved kiss—a proper one this time.

[salemahn]

Heyyyy, I'd like to request mistletoe for franco colapinto please<3

- so it'd be based on the doorstep/cue cards scene from the movie love actually (which goes so well w the xmas theme🤭) when mark shows up at juliet's door w several signs to declare his love ("to me you are perfect | and my wasted heart will love you | until you look like this | [insert ugly pic]")

BUT i need it to be happy and not angsty please😭 bc in the movie, mark's love is unrequited (juliet married his best friend)

Thank you sm if you end up writing this, I've been loving your fics since you appeared on my feed🫶🏻🫶🏻

say it's carol singers ⟡ ݁₊ . - franco colapinto

w/c: 800 a/n: arghdfjghdbf i'm so sorry this took me FOREVER to get to it's just that i got massive writers block half way through - but thank you !! i hope u like it <333

this is part of my 1k event - check out the rules here!!

"I'll get it!"

At the sound of a doorbell, you jump up from the couch where you and your roommate had spent the entirety of your day. Finally free from the worries of final exams and with Christmas rolling around, binge-watching cheesy romcoms had seemed like the perfect way to kill time.

As you reached for the doorknob, your mind ran through the possibilities of who could be behind it - maybe your neighbours asking if you wanted their leftover gingerbread or a delivery guy with the pizza you had just placed an order for. What you hadn't been expecting was to be met with a boyishly handsome face you knew all too well, a stack of poster-size cards and a radio.

"Oh, hi," you let out, trying to hide your surprise.

"Who is it?" your roommate's voice calls out, and you're about to answer before Franco hurriedly pulls a finger to his lips to stop you. Confused, you watch as he swings the stack of cards around to reveal a message.

"Say it's carol singers."

Intrigued, you oblige. "It's carol singers!"

"Oh, whatever," your roommate laughs, resuming her movie, though your feet stay in place. He bends over, setting down the radio and hitting play, and soon a floaty version of 'Silent Night' begins playing. You furrow your brows in confusion, but he doesn't say a word, instead flipping over the top card to reveal more words.

"I know we haven't spoken in a while."

'A while' is an understatement, considering that you haven't even seen each other in over a month - or however long it had been since you had ended an almost year-long relationship with one of Franco's closest friends.

After that, it seemed like there was no reason for the two of you to talk anymore, even if you had gotten to know each other rather well. Mostly because it had been just that fact that had catalysed the sudden end of your relationship - your boyfriend unhappy with how close you had gotten to Franco, and yourself growing more weary of just what that closeness might mean.

Through it all though, you had tried your best to keep Franco unaware of his involvement in the end of your relationship, and to this day he still didn't know a thing.

"And maybe this a bit weird, considering the terms we ended on."

Or so you thought.

You watch as he continues to flip through the large cards he's holding, eyes darting up to meet his every time he reveals a new message. It's strange, the fact that you're not even stopping to realise how ridiculous this situation is - that he's here, holding handwritten cards and leafing through them instead of just talking to you like a normal person.

"But just because it's Christmas - and at Christmas you tell the truth."

But the earnest look he keeps on giving you convinces you that maybe saying these things out loud may not be the easiest thing for him, and so you continue reading.

"To me, you are perfect."

The realisation hits you as you silently mouth the words he's written.

"And my wasted heart will go on loving you, forever."

You don't know what urges you to do it, but you're stepping out through your doorway, your arms reaching to grasp either side of his face - pulling his lips to crash into yours. He's just as surprised as you are, but you hear him drop the cards onto your doorstep, freeing his hands to wrap around your waist.

When you finally part, you're almost breathless, face flushed with shock and a sudden embarrassment.

"I thought that," Franco's just as out of breath as you are, "I thought you-"

"So much for a wasted heart," you laugh, tucking a couple stray strands of hair behind his ear.

"So you-" It's almost as if the shock of the situation is making him unable to finish his sentences.

"Yes, Franco, for ages."

"Oh, thank god, I was really nervous about coming here and making an idiot of myself."

"Where did you even get the idea from?"

"Saw it in a movie," he admits sheepishly before letting out a soft relieved laugh which is music to your ears. Even more so than the crackly carol that streams through his radio, which you've accidentally kicked down a step.

He lets go of your waist momentarily to pick it up, stop the recording, and gather the cards he's dropped, though you notice there's one more you haven't read.

"What does that one say?"

He flips it over revealing the final message - "Merry Christmas."

You let out a soft chuckle before cupping his face close to yours once more, your voice barely above a whisper.

"Merry Christmas, Franco."

taglist:@spreadyourwings-my-smiling-angel @alelo23 @scill-a @multifan-idk @presleycaudle

[salemahn]

MISS YOU BABY | MV1

an: i need a hug from max verstappen stat, based off this request! thank you for sending it :)

summary: max thought his girlfriend was missing his final race during his triple header, little did he know she'd planned to come and visit all along.

wc 3.6k

The hotel room she was in was quiet.

She sat cross-legged on the bed in a dark hotel room that mirrored his, only three floors below, making sure he couldn’t see her surroundings. Her phone was propped up against a pillow, and Max’s face filled the screen, his hair still damp from the shower, tousled and messy. He looked worn-out but managed a small, tired smile just for her.

"I’m sorry, Max. I really tried to get time off, but there was just… no way," she said, the fib slipping from her lips with surprising ease. "I wanted to be there with you. Especially now."

Max exhaled, leaning back against his headboard. “I know. It’s alright.” His voice softened. “I just miss you, is all. It’s been a rough couple of weeks.”

She nodded, biting the inside of her cheek, wishing she could reach through the screen and wrap her arms around him. "You’ll get through it, though. You always do."

"Doesn’t feel that way." He laughed, but it was brittle around the edges. “I feel like I’m letting everyone down. The team, the fans… you.” His eyes searched the screen, as if he might find a solution hidden somewhere in her gaze.

"Never me." She leaned closer, her face so near to the camera that she could see her reflection in his eyes. "I’m so proud of you, Max. Always. No matter what."

For a moment, he just looked at her, his expression softening, and the tension she’d seen in his face for days seemed to melt, just a little. "I wish you were here," he murmured. "I swear, you’re the only thing that keeps me sane sometimes."

She swallowed, feeling her heart pull toward him with a force that was hard to resist. "Soon, I’ll be back with you. Just… hold on a bit longer, okay?”

She gazed at his face on the screen, her heart swelling as she watched the way his eyes softened every time he looked at her. She knew he was tired and worn down, but in this moment, he looked at peace.

"I love you, Max," she whispered, her voice barely above a breath.

He closed his eyes, letting the words wash over him, and when he opened them again, there was a warmth there that seemed to cut through the miles between them. "I love you, too," he replied, a little smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "More than you know."

She tucked her hair behind her ear, feeling her cheeks flush, and nodded. "Get some sleep, alright? Big day tomorrow."

He grinned. "Yeah, yeah. You, too. Dream about me, okay?"

She laughed, rolling her eyes, but her heart skipped all the same. "Always. Goodnight, Max."

"Goodnight, love."

With a final smile, she ended the call, letting the screen go dark as she leaned back into the pillows, her heart fluttering with anticipation. She’d hardly been able to sleep on the plane ride here, and she could already tell tonight would be the same.

Still, the thought of finally seeing him in person tomorrow kept her too giddy to care. She’d surprise him at the track, slipping through the garage just as he arrived, or maybe even at breakfast if she could manage it without spoiling the surprise. Her mind spun with ideas, each more elaborate than the last, but all she really wanted was to see his face light up when he realised she was there.

Pulling the covers up to her chin, she let her eyes drift closed, replaying the moment over and over in her mind, savouring the thought of his reaction. She loved him fiercely, and she knew that being here—no matter how much of a secret she’d had to make it—was exactly where she was supposed to be.

As she finally began to drift off, her last thought was simple but bright, shining like a promise: Tomorrow, he’ll know.

And while she was glad she held onto the secret.

The following morning she wished she’d told him earlier.

She woke to the faint glow of her phone on the nightstand, her morning alarm. Blinking herself awake, she squinted at the screen and saw Max’s name, followed by the time—5:02 a.m.

Heading to the track early today. Miss you already, wish you were here.

She smiled, feeling that familiar warmth spreading through her chest. But then her heart sank a little. She’d been hoping to catch him in the hotel this morning, maybe surprise him over breakfast. Now, with him already gone, she'd have to adjust her plans.

Throwing back the covers, she got up and went to the window. Rain streaked down the glass in thick, heavy drops, and the sky was a murky grey. The weather was only supposed to get worse throughout the day; she knew that’d make things complicated, especially for an outdoor track. She had no clue if her surprise would even be worth the stress of navigating the drenched, crowded paddock.

After a moment’s hesitation, she tapped her phone, scrolling through her contacts until she reached the name she wanted. She dialled, and after a few rings, Max’s assistant, Sophie, picked up.

“Hey!” Sophie greeted, sounding pleasantly surprised. “What’s up? Did you make it in?”

“Yes, I’m here!” she whispered, unable to contain her excitement. “I wanted to surprise him before he heads out on track, but with this rain… do you think I should even bother?”

Sophie sighed sympathetically. “Honestly, it’s a mess out here. They’re saying the rain’s going to be even heavier by the time qualifying starts. He’ll be in back-to-back meetings until then, and I’d hate for you to sit in the rain, just to get a few minutes with him.”

She nodded, glancing out the window at the sheets of rain. “So you think I should wait?”

“I’d say hold off until right before the race,” Sophie replied. “He’ll have a short break, and I think he’d love the surprise then. Plus, everyone’s less frantic between qualifying and race prep.”

“Good point,” she agreed, a little disappointed but knowing Sophie was right. The track on a rainy race day was chaos, and if she could avoid it until the right moment, she’d have a better chance of actually spending time with him. “Thanks, Sophie. Let me know if anything changes?”

“Will do! He’ll be so happy to see you,” Sophie said warmly. “Hang tight, okay?”

As she hung up, she couldn’t help but feel a twinge of excitement, knowing the surprise would be even more perfect with the wait. So she ordered herself a coffee, sat by the window, and watched the rain pour down, imagining the look on Max’s face when he’d finally see her just before the most important race of the weekend.

The rain hadn’t let up by the time she arrived at the track, the skies dark and moody, the air thick with humidity. She’d navigated her way through security and weaving lines of drenched fans, her heart racing as she got closer to Max’s garage. But by the time she finally made it, he was already in the car, helmet on, visor down, his focus entirely on the track ahead.

Her heart sank a little as she scanned the bustling garage, hoping for some last chance to catch his eye. But he was already strapped in, a crew member leaning in to give him a final check before he rolled out. She spotted Sophie in the corner, scribbling something down on a clipboard, and made her way over to her.

“Hey,” she whispered, feeling the dampness of the rain still clinging to her hair and clothes. “I… I just missed him, didn’t I?”

Sophie looked up and gave her a sympathetic smile. “Yeah, he was swamped the moment he got here. They barely had time to get him settled with all the delays.” She gestured to the grid display above them, where Max’s name glowed beside the stark “P17” position. “Rough start, but he’ll be glad to know you’re here.”

She nodded, feeling a pang as she glanced at his car just as it rumbled to life. His fingers flexed on the steering wheel, even from a distance she could see the tension there. She let out a breath, feeling a swell of pride and worry all at once. “Well, I’ll be here watching, then.”

Sophie handed her a headset, which she slipped on just in time to hear his engineer’s voice crackle through with the first instructions as they prepared for the start. The rain was relentless, turning the track into a slick, treacherous maze, and she felt her stomach twist as the cars peeled out onto the track for the formation lap. Max’s car trailed near the back, but she knew he’d fight, as he always did, with a ferocity she both admired and feared in moments like this.

The race began, a chaotic blur of spray and metal, the cars kicking up rooster tails of water, visibility nearly zero as they fought for position. She gripped the edge of her seat as the laps ticked by, heart pounding with every close call. It quickly became clear that the conditions were only worsening, drivers struggling to keep their cars on track, a few even skidding off into barriers with loud, bone-jarring crashes. Her hands tightened around the headset as Max navigate his way forward, battling his way to P10, then P6.

And then, just when the tension seemed to reach its peak, there was a deafening crash, followed by a sudden hush as the red flag went up, halting the race.

Her breath caught in her throat. The screen above replayed the incident—a skidding into the barrier that had caused an emergency stop. The seconds felt like hours as she waited, desperately searching for a glimpse of his car on the feed. Finally, there it was, intact, safe. Relief flooded her, and she felt her shoulders sag.

The race restarted after the delay, and she watched in awe as Max took advantage of the reshuffled positions and tire changes, surging forward with a newfound intensity. Lap by lap, he clawed his way through the field, passing car after car with a precision that made her heart race. It was as if he’d transformed, harnessing every ounce of his frustration from the last few races, channelling it into something extraordinary.

The garage erupted in cheers as he moved into P3, then P1. She stared at the screen, hardly daring to blink, her heart racing as he crossed the finish line in first place, drenched in rain and glory.

She could hardly believe it. From P17 to P1. He’d done it.

Forgetting herself, she laughed, a sound of pure joy, her heart swelling as she watched him slow down, the victory finally sinking in. She couldn't wait to see his face when he finally realised she was here, to be the first person he’d see when he stepped out of that car, soaked and grinning, finally at the top.

Ripping her headset off, she followed the crew as they ran out to parc fermé, her heart racing as fast as the roar of the crowd. The team, buzzing with excitement, parted slightly as she joined them, nudging her to the front so she’d be the first face he saw. She could barely breathe as she caught sight of Max’s car, now still, the rain glistening on its blue-and-red bodywork.

With all the force he had he climbed out, pulling off his helmet to reveal damp, messy hair and a face lit up with exhilaration and disbelief. For a moment, he simply stood there, taking in the shouts of the crowd and the blinding flashes of cameras. And then, his gaze landed on her.

His eyes widened, his exhaustion and surprise giving way to pure joy. Without hesitation, he broke into a run, crossing the slick tarmac with the kind of speed and determination that made her heart leap. She barely had a second to react before he wrapped her in his arms, his lips crashing against hers as he pulled her close, his hands pressed firmly against her back, as if he still couldn’t believe she was real.

“You came,” he murmured breathlessly, pulling back just enough to look at her, his face filled with awe and happiness.

“I wouldn’t have missed it for the world,” she replied, her voice trembling with emotion, brushing a wet strand of hair from his face.

He smiled, a bright, unguarded smile that melted her heart. “God, I needed this. I needed you.”

And then he kissed her again, a kiss filled with all the missed moments and the words they hadn’t been able to say, the thrill of his victory mingling with the fierce love they shared. She felt the rain soak through her clothes, the crowd and the noise around them fading as they held each other, his arms wrapping around her as if he could protect her from the rest of the world.

“I still can’t believe it,” he whispered against her lips, his forehead resting against hers, his hand gently brushing her cheek. “P1. And you’re here.”

She laughed softly, her eyes shining. “You deserve it, Max. I knew you could do it.”

He held her close, a triumphant laugh bubbling from his chest as he buried his face in her neck, and they stood there in the pouring rain, lost in each other, savouring the victory and this long-awaited moment they both knew they’d never forget.

As the noise of the cheering crew and fans started to swell around them, Max pulled back slightly, brushing his thumb across her cheek, his gaze lingering on her face as if he was trying to commit every detail to memory.

“I have to go,” he said softly, his voice tinged with regret. “The interviews, cool-down room, podium… but wait for me? I’ll meet you in my driver’s room as soon as I can.”

She nodded, understanding but already missing the warmth of his arms. “I’ll be waiting. Go,” she whispered, giving him a small smile. “Enjoy every second—you deserve it.”

He pressed one last, lingering kiss to her forehead, then turned and jogged off to join the waiting crew, helmet in hand, while she stayed rooted to her spot, watching him disappear into the crowd. Her heart swelled with pride as she trailed after the team to watch his interviews, his beaming, breathless face glowing with pride and energy as he spoke about the gruelling conditions and the unbelievable climb from P17 to P1.

Then came the cool-down room, where she watched from the sidelines as he bantered with the other drivers, sharing exhausted smiles and congratulatory claps on the back, the weight of his achievement settling in as he finally let himself relax a little. She couldn’t help but smile, feeling as though she could burst with joy just watching him, his eyes sparking with energy even as he looked ready to collapse from exhaustion.

And finally, the podium. She felt the crowd’s excitement echo through her as she looked up to see him standing tall, drenched from head to toe, a bottle of champagne in hand. When he raised it in victory, the crowd erupted, and she joined them, cheering at the top of her lungs as he sprayed champagne with abandon, laughing as he celebrated with the other drivers. His eyes swept over the crowd, and when they found hers, he gave a subtle nod, a silent promise that he’d be back with her soon.

After the podium, she made her way to his driver’s room, her heart fluttering as she paced the small space, the thrill of the day lingering in every fibre of her being. And then, finally, the door swung open, and there he was.

He looked completely worn out, his hair still damp and messy, his fireproof undersuit clinging to his skin. But his smile was bright, and his eyes lit up the moment he saw her.

Without a word, he crossed the room, pulling her into his arms, his lips finding hers in a soft, exhausted kiss. She melted into him, her arms wrapping around his neck as he held her close, the adrenaline and joy from his victory radiating between them.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been this happy,” he whispered against her ear, his voice low and hoarse. “Winning today… and having you here with me. It’s everything.”

She brushed a strand of damp hair from his face, smiling as she traced her fingers along his cheek. “You did it, Max. I’m so proud of you.”

He took her hand, pressing it to his heart, his eyes never leaving hers. “None of it would mean anything without you,” he said quietly, his voice steady.

She felt her eyes sting with tears, overwhelmed by the depth of his words. “I’m here,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. “I’ll always be here.”

They stayed like that for a long moment, wrapped up in each other, the rest of the world slipping away. He stroked her hair, pressing gentle kisses to her forehead, her cheeks, her lips, as if savouring each moment.

“Let’s get out of here,” he finally murmured, his voice warm and soft, “celebrate somewhere a little less chaotic.”

She laughed, nodding. “Anywhere, as long as it’s with you.”

They headed back to his hotel, hand in hand, a peaceful quiet settling over them as they left the track behind. Once in the privacy of his suite, he gave her a lingering kiss, then smiled, nodding toward the bathroom. “Give me a few minutes to wash off all the champagne and… probably half the track dust,” he said with a laugh.

She grinned, watching as he disappeared into the bathroom, the sound of running water filling the suite a moment later. While he showered, she took the opportunity to pack up her things from her own room, gathering her scattered belongings quickly. The thrill of being close, of finally sharing a space for the night, filled her with a warmth that had nothing to do with the tropical heat outside.

By the time she returned, he was out of the shower, towelling off his damp hair, his expression softening as he took in the sight of her standing there with her things. Without a word, he crossed the room and took her bags from her hands, setting them by the closet as he gave her a smile that made her heart skip.

Once they’d both changed into fresh clothes—she’d opted for a simple dress, and he in casual jeans and a loose shirt—they slipped out of the hotel through a side exit, making their way to a tiny, tucked-away Brazilian restaurant that had been recommended. The place was hidden, small enough to be missed by the crowds, with soft, low lighting that created an intimate, cosy atmosphere. A few locals lingered around tables, but they paid little attention to the couple as they took a corner table in the back.

They ordered caipirinhas and he reached across the table to hold her hand, his fingers tracing gentle circles on her skin as they laughed over silly little things, shared stories from the past few weeks, and spoke of things beyond racing, beyond work, just slipping back into the easy flow they always shared. The food was rich and delicious—small plates of feijoada, grilled meats, and pão de queijo—everything flavorful and homey.

He leaned across the table, his eyes warm and filled with that familiar spark, as he watched her speak, clearly savouring every moment. “You know,” he said softly, “I think this is the best victory celebration I’ve ever had.”

She squeezed his hand, smiling back at him. “Same here. I missed just… being with you like this.”

They stayed until the restaurant closed, lingering over the last bites of dessert, letting the night stretch out as long as possible. Eventually, they headed back to the hotel, the city streets now quiet and still beneath the soft hum of streetlights.

Once back in his room, Max changed into a pair of soft pyjama bottoms, leaving his chest bare, his skin still warm from the shower. She slipped into one of his t-shirts, the fabric soft and oversized, the scent of him comforting and familiar. When she stepped out the bathroom, he was already waiting for her by the bed, his gaze softening as he took her in, a gentle smile curving on his lips.

Without a word, he reached for her, lacing his fingers through hers as he pulled her close, guiding her to the bed. She sank into the mattress beside him, and he wrapped an arm around her, drawing her against his chest, his fingertips trailing absently over her shoulder. She nestled into him, feeling his warmth seep through her, a cosy silence wrapping around them.

They lay there, tangled together, her head tucked beneath his chin as he gently traced circles on her back, his breath even and steady. He tilted her chin up, his eyes searching hers for a quiet moment before he leaned down, capturing her lips in a soft, lingering kiss, filled with a tenderness that said everything words couldn’t. She kissed him back just as gently, savouring the intimacy of being close like this, the world beyond these walls feeling miles away.

When the kiss ended, he pressed his forehead to hers, a soft sigh escaping as he held her close, one hand settling over hers, fingers intertwined. They stayed that way, her head resting against his heartbeat, lulled by the steady rhythm.

Finally, they drifted off, still tangled in each other’s arms, wrapped up in the warmth and comfort of just being together. As the night settled around them, Max couldn’t help but smile, holding her a little closer as he slipped into sleep, his heart full and light.

Max couldn’t have wished for a better weekend.

the end.