#Flying out of Austin

[thorsenmark]

Views of Lady Bird Lake, Longhorn Dam, and the Colorado River by Mark Stevens Via Flickr: While on a flight out of Austin as I was headed up to Washington Dulles Airport one Friday afternoon. The view is generally looking to the west with the Colorado River in the image center from bottom up to the airplane wing. I angled my Nikon Z8 camera slightly downward, bringing the horizon higher into the image and minimizing the overcast skies. I did some initial post-processing work making adjustments to contrast, brightness and saturation while playing around as I learned how to work with DxO PhotoLab 7. I then exported a TIFF image to Nik Color Efex Pro 7 where I added a Polarization and Pro Contrast filter for that last effect on the image captured.

[sethnorth]

Ace Austin

[texasflycaster]

Let's Go Clubbing!

Texas Fly Fishing Clubs Back in Session Yeah, I know. Texas fly fishing clubs, most of them I know of, are a double-edged butter knife. Heck, I am currently a member of one! (Lower) Laguna Madre Fly Fishing is the banner I fly under, and for good measure? I live 550-miles from their meetings. That’s probably a little too far, but it works for me. Closer to Home No matter where you are in this…

[ratatatastic]

baby boy excitedly looking out the metal flying death trap with miss silver in his arms...

[coolemmasulivan2]

Back on Track

Pairing: Lando Norris x Reader

Summary: After a fight with Lando, you’re nowhere to be found when he leaves for Austin, making him fear the relationship is over. But when you arrive at the track with Max, he gets a second chance to make things right, and the two of you reconcile.

Word count: 2061

Even though we're going through it And it makes you feel alone Just know that I would die for you Baby, I would die for you, yeah

You and Lando rarely fought. You’d been together since his final season in Formula 2, a bloody long time, and you could count the big fights on one hand. But this one was different. This was the worst of them all.

It was his last day at home before flying to Austin, and somehow everything went down.

"You're being clingy!" He shouted, running a hand through his messy curls, frustration etched on his face.

You stared at him, stunned. "I’m being clingy? Me? Lando, we’ve been together for years, and I have never asked you for anything. The one time I do, and this is what you say? Wow."

"Yeah, well, you’ve never acted like this before!" His face hardened, eyes sparking with irritation you weren’t used to. "Seriously, if you suddenly want some boyfriend who’ll sit around every night, watching dumb TV shows and cuddling you to sleep, maybe you should find someone else."

You shook your head, disbelief morphing into something different, something more hurt. "Maybe I should do that!"

He was beyond pissed. "Then please, do! I'm going out and I'll do the same." He turned, grabbing his jacket without a second glance. and strode out, slamming the door shut behind him.

You flinched at the echo, the silence crashing down around you as tears started to well up. "I hate you, Lando Norris." You whispered into the emptiness of the apartment.

Lando sat in the VIP section of his favorite Monaco club, gazing blankly over the crowded dance floor. The music pulsed, people laughed and danced, but his thoughts were miles away, thinking of you.

Max leaned in, breaking Lando’s trance. "Are you going to tell me what’s going on, or do I have to drag it out of you?" Lando shrugged. "Was it that bad?"

Lando sighed, his gaze distant. "It was! It was the worst fight we’ve ever had." He swallowed, the words bitter. "She probably thinks I’m cheating on her right now."

Max’s eyebrows shot up. "What are you talking about? Why would she think that?"

"Because, I pretty much said that." Lando muttered lound enough for Max to hear over the music.

Max looked at him, incredulous. "Why the hell would you say that, you absolute idiot? You love her."

Lando exhaled heavily. "I was angry! I didn’t even think. I just… said it. I realized how bad it sounded the second I left."

Max shook his head, staring at him with a mix of pity and frustration. "Well, congratulations: you’re an idiot!"

"Thanks for the information."

It was late when Lando finally got home. The apartment was dark, and silence filled the rooms. He stepped into the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge, his mind caught between whether he should crash on the sofa or swallow his pride, apologize, and lie beside you.

He waked to the closed bedroom door, standing there for a long moment, nerves filling his body. His hand hovered over the doorknob, but he stopped himself. He stepped back and with the sting of guilt he fell down on the sofa.

You were deep asleep when a hand shook your shoulder. Groggily, you opened your eyes to see your best friend sitting on the edge of the bed, her eyes barely open, hair rumpled from sleep.

"What?"

She yawned, rubbing her eyes before looking at you. "Your phone won’t stop ringing."

Blinking, you glanced at the empty nightstand, remembering you’d left your phone in the living room. "What time is it?" You muttered. "It’s probably Lando. We were supposed to leave for Austin early."

She groaned, pulling a pillow over her head and laying down next to you. "Then answer it or turn it off. It’s too early for this, and I’m exhausted."

"She rejected my call!" Lando exclaimed, pacing back and forth in the apartment.

Max raised an eyebrow. "That’s good news."

"How is that good?"

"At least we know she’s okay." He said. "And still mad at you, which is probably deserved."

"I don’t even know if she was still here when I got home last night. The bedroom door was closed, and I just… crashed on the sofa. I only realized she was gone this morning."

Max nodded thoughtfully. "So, what’s the plan now?"

“I don’t know,” Lando groaned, slumping into a chair, rubbing his hands over his face. "The team’s going to kill me if I miss this flight."

"So go!" Max said firmly.

Lando looked up, shaking his head. "No way. I’m not leaving without her."

Max rolled his eyes. "Look, she knows you have to leave, Lando. Sooner or later, she’s coming back, and when she does, I’ll bring her to Austin myself. Just go."

"What if she refuses to go?"

"She loves you. She'll want t make things right. Trust me!"

Lando hesitated. "You promise?"

"I promise."

You slipped into the apartment two hours later, knowing Lando would be gone by now. The silence felt heavy as you shut the door, but before you could make it to the kitchen, Max appeared, stepping out from Lando’s streaming room.

You jumped, clutching your chest. "Max! What the hell? You scared me!"

"Sorry!" He said, raising his hands in apology.

"What are you doing here? Is Lando still here?" You glanced around, half expecting him to walk out from somewhere.

"He left. Had to, or he’d have missed his flight."

You made your way to the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge and taking a long sip. "I thought you were going with him."

"I am. I was just waiting for you."

You looked at him, understanding dawning slowly. "Max, I don’t think going with you is a good idea." You sank into a chair at the small dining table, and Max sat across from you.

"That’s not true."

"Max, you don’t know how he treated me, the things he said…" You swallowed, voice shaking. "He told me I should find someone else. And said he would, too."

Max leaned forward, shaking his head. "Look, he was furious and stupid. Belive me, I know what he said, and he regrets every word. He didn’t even want to leave. I practically had to drag him onto the helicopter."

Tears pricked at your eyes. "Max, I don't know."

"He’s an idiot, but he’s an idiot in love with you. I’ve never seen him like this with anyone, Y/N. He’s been calling you non-stop, hoping you’d pick up, and he’s completely torn up about it. So please, come with me. Let’s go to Austin."

Lando had been unusually quiet all day. Practice had gone well, but not well enough; the Ferraris were ahead, and so was Verstappen. His mind should’ve been on the upcoming sprint qualifying, but all he could think about was you and the fight. He could only hope that Max was somehow convincing you to come to Austin.

"Everything alright? You’ve been quiet, which is… not like you." Oscar asked, glancing over at Lando as they wrapped up filming a video for McLaren’s social media.

"Just tired." Lando muttered.

Oscar hesitated, then asked gently. "Where’s Y/N? Lily told me she was coming."

Lando’s jaw tensed, his eyes flicking up to meet Oscar’s. "I… don’t think she’s coming." He admitted, his voice low. "I messed things up pretty badly."

Oscar raised his eyebrows. "Want to talk about it?"

Lando shook his head, leaning back and closing his eyes. "Not really. Just… hoping I haven’t lost her." He said, more to himself than to Oscar.

Lando was suiting up, pulling on his gloves and securing his helmet, trying to lock his focus onto the upcoming sprint qualifying. But the knot of anxiety in his stomach hadn’t eased since he arrived, knowing he might have to go through this entire weekend without you there.

Just then, Max appeared in front of him, grinning. "Hey, mate. Just came by to wish you luck. And, by the way…" Max lowered his voice, glancing over his shoulder. "She’s here."

"Fuck... thank you for bringing her."

There, standing quietly near the corner, arms crossed and headphones on, was you. You looked a little nervous, a shy expression on your face and when your eyes met, you quickly looked away.

A wave of relief fell over him, and he instinctively took a step forward, desperate to close the space between you. But Max put a hand on his shoulder, holding him back.

"Not now." Max warned. "You’ve got a sprint to think about. You can talk to her after."

"But—" Lando began, his eyes darting back to you, a urge to apologize.

A couple of mechanics also intercepted him, nudging him toward the car with hurried reminders. "We’re starting in a few, Lando."

Lando clenched his jaw, glancing back at you. Taking a deep breath, Lando slipped into the car, his heart beating a little steadier, his mind clearing. For the first time all day, he felt ready. You were here and that was everything.

You watched the qualifying from the garage, heart pounding with every lap. It was always like this: nerve-wracking, pride and fear as you watched him push himself and the car to the limit. But today, your chest felt even tighter, knowing the tension lingering between you.

When the session ended, Lando finished fourth. Relief mixed with a bit of pride washed over you as you clapped, your gaze fixed on him as he came into the garage.

The moment he spotted you, he didn’t hesitate. He strode over and without a word, he reached for your hand, gently but firmly, and led you out of the garage toward his driver’s room, ignoring the curious glances around you.

Once inside, he closed the door. "Y/N… Babe, I’m so sorry."

You looked down, your arms wrapping around yourself. "You hurt me, Lando. You didn’t just walk away, you made me feel like I was… too much."

He stepped closer, reaching for your hand again. "I was an idiot. I don’t even know why I said those things. I was frustrated, and I took it out on you. None of it was true. You’re not ‘too much.’ You’re… everything to me."

"I thought you didn’t want me anymore."

He swallowed, his voice barely a whisper. "That could never be true. I can’t imagine any of this, my life, racing, anything, without you." He brushed a stray tear from your cheek. "I was terrified you wouldn’t come. That I’d ruined everything."

You took a shaky breath. "Max convinced me… told me you didn’t want to leave, that you were just… scared of losing me."

"More than you know." He said, his hand holding yours firmly. "Please forgive me, Y/N. I’ll spend as long as it takes making it up to you."

"I don't want you to give up anything, Lando."

"I know. I know. That's not what you asked me."

After a long moment, you squeezed his hand. "I’m here now." You said softly. "Let’s just start with that."

Relief flooded his face as he wrapped you in his arms, holding you close, as if he never wanted to let go. "I know I don’t deserve it, but I’m grateful you’re here. I don’t want to mess this up ever again."

You gave him a gentle smile, brushing a stray curl from his forehead. "I didn’t come all this way to hold onto what happened. Let’s just… move forward. Together."

He smiled. "Together."

A knock on the door interrupted the moment. "Lando?" A team member called from the hallway. "They need you back in the garage in five!"

Lando glanced back toward the door, then returned his gaze to you, clearly torn. "Go!" You murmured. "I’ll be here when you’re done. I’m not going anywhere."

He didn’t respond right away. Instead, he cupped your face in his hands, his thumbs brushing gently over your cheeks as he leaned in, capturing your lips in a soft, lingering kiss. You melted into it, letting the last of the hurt dissolve in his warmth.

When he pulled back, he looked at you with a smile . "I’ll be quick." He said, squeezing your hand before reluctantly letting it go and heading toward the door. Just as he opened it, he paused, glancing over his shoulder one last time. "I love you."

"I love you too." You whispered.

[formulawolff]

nothing else matters — m.v.

pairing: max verstappen x wag!reader

word count: (idek tbh)

warnings: mentions of menstrual cycle, reader is on her period, some cursing, max being tender, bf mode to the max (i think i’m hilarious), tooth-rotting fluff

a/n -> i’m on my period (for the second time this month!) and im miserable rn. (+ fried) so i apologize if this is terrible (i typed it on my phone) i just wanted to write something self-indulgent af.

euphoria radiates off of him, the energy so contagious it brings an entire crew to their feet.

his cheeks are flushed, tinged a rosy hue from the rush of it all. his eyes are bright, shining as the team surrounds him, jostling him back and forth. you can hear his laughter, the way it rings so wonderfully in your ears as they shout his name.

“max! max! max! max! max!”

“all right, all right,” he catches his breath, “let’s not get too excited. it’s only pole.”

“only pole?” you find yourself scoffing as another familiar voice fills the air, “max, this is huge for us!”

“well the race isn’t won yet,” the corners of your lips twitch, a smile forming as max clears his throat, “we can celebrate when we finally win a fucking race.”

christian horner exhales, the remark from max clearly striking a chord, “well, i can’t disagree with you there. all right everyone, let’s get to it. we have a lot to do before the race tomorrow if we want to remind everyone of who we are.”

you remain in the corner of the space, arms folded across your chest as the crew disperses. you take in the way max’s jaw clenches as people flurry around, his gaze brimmed with desperation.

he was looking for someone.

and that someone was you.

however, you don’t move a muscle, sitting as still as possible. another ripple of pain courses through you, yet you clamp down on your tongue. the cramping sensation originates from your lower abdomen, this wave far worse than the last.

hanging your head, tears well up in your eyes. the cramps started just this morning, right around nine. now, the austin sun was dipping below the horizon, promising of dusk.

your hands ball up, squeezing into fists as the pain intensifies. the adrenaline from qualifying was wearing off, and fuck, was it wearing off quicker than you expected.

“hey,” there’s a figure in front of you, his voice soft as he kneels, “baby, what’s going on? do i need to get a medi—“

“no,” you hiss, “i’m fine.”

“come on,” hands envelop yours, “follow me.”

you want to protest, yet he’s already helping you to your feet, wrapping an arm around your waist. you instinctively lean into him, grateful for his touch. a few members of the crew pause from their work, murmuring among themselves. you shrink a little, shame burning within as max practically allows you to lean against him.

fuck, was this utterly embarrassing.

oh, how the rumors were going to fly.

max verstappen’s girlfriend was so drunk at qualifying that he had to practically carry her out.

what. a. headline.

the walk from the garage to the motorhome is a blur.

before you know it, max has you in bed, prompting you to lay down. you obey, pulling the cover over you as he follows, bringing you in against his chest.

he hasn’t showered yet, and you pick up traces of his cologne mixed with perspiration. his hair is a haphazard mess, ruffled from the gear and his cap. his clothes cling to his body, more than likely from the sweat and heat of the suit.

lips graze your temple, fingers tenderly massaging your scalp.

“what’s going on?”

“nothing,” you shrug, “i’m okay.”

“bullshit,” he tuts. fingers grasp your chin, forcing you to look upward, “what. is. going. on?”

“i started my period,” your lower lip trembles, “and i’ve been dealing with cramps all day.”

“and you didn’t say anything?” concern dances in his intense gaze, “baby, there are medical staff on site who would be happy to provide you with anything you need. i’m sure asking for a couple of pain relievers wouldn’t have been an issue. you’ve been suffering like this all day?”

“it wasn’t a big deal,” you retort, warmth flooding your cheeks as tears overflow, “i wasn’t suffering. it’s just my period. i was fi—“

“don’t say that shit,” he cuts in, “when i saw you, you looked miserable. absolutely fucking miserable. you were nearly curled up in the fetal position in that chair.”

“maybe i just didn’t want to draw any attention to myself,” you mutter, burying your head into the crook of his neck, “i didn’t want to seem like i was high maintenance.”

“baby,” a chuckle rumbles in his chest, “asking someone for some medication or somewhere to lay down is not high maintenance.”

tears splatter against his shirt, your eyes squeezing shut, “now i just feel fucking worse because i took you away from you job. you’re going to get into some shit with the fia and it’s my fault.”

“listen to me,” his arms pull you in even tighter, his mouth planting gentle kisses along your forehead, “are you listening to me?”

“yes,” you nod, sniffling, “i’m listening.”

“when it comes to you, nothing else matters. you are my only priority. ensuring that you’re safe and sound comes first. taking care of you is what’s important to me. i would much rather make sure you’re feeling better than attend a press conference. i’ll deal with the repercussions in the morning.”

“are you sure?” your voice shakes, threatening to crescendo into a sob.

“yes,” he murmurs, “i’m sure. i love you.”

“i love you,” the words are a strangled cry, the fabric now soaked as the tears spill, “i love you so much, max.”

“i love you more,” heated hands find your back, kneading, “what do you need from me baby? say it and it’s yours.”

“i just want you.”

a laugh bubbles up in his throat, “you can have me, but you’re going to get a hot shower. then we’re going to go to hospitality to get you some food. after that, you can have me as much as you want. deal?”

“deal,” you shake your head, “can we get something sweet too?”

“we’ll get all the sweet things,” the words are tender, just what you needed to hear, “and we can pick you up a stuffy from the airport on our way home. we can even look for a trinket or two. the ones i know you like, the sonny angels or calico critters. how does that sound?”

“that sounds perfect,” the tears have ceased, a sense of relief rippling within max, “i would love that, max. thank you for being the best boyfriend ever.”

at that, he can’t help but melt a little at the sincerity laced within your tone, “of course, baby. anything for you. i can’t bear the thought of you in pain or uncomfortable. i’ll do anything to help you feel better.”

“even if it interferes with your job?”

“even if i have to pull out of the race tomorrow.”

“you’re ridiculous,” a light giggle fills the space, max’s lips forming a wide grin, “you wouldn’t do that.”

oh but for you, max verstappen would.

[pedriscroquettes]

𝐋𝐀𝐒 𝐕𝐄𝐆𝐀𝐒 ꕥ MAX VERSTAPPEN

summary. celebrating max’s 4th title was not in your plans.

warnings. piastri!reader, max is kinda obsessed with reader, public s3x (?), unprotected pinv, fingering, just straight up dirty.

gabri speaks! i’ve been thinking about mexico gp max and las vegas sealed the deal for me.

THERE’S A BRIEF moment of silence, of anticipation, and of complete confusion. The DJ had paused the setlist less than an hour in announcing there was a special guest appearance. Then as if on cue tonight’s race is plastered on the giant screen behind him and the words, “Max Verstappen,” echo throughout the nightclub. You resist the urge to roll your eyes knowing someone might be recording you, or your brother at least.

“I thought he was flying back?” You cover your mouth with your hand as you talk with your brother.

“I thought so too.” Your brother hums in your ear trying to hide his annoyed tone. Your brother got along with Max just fine but all he wanted was one night without F1 getting mentioned.

You on the other hand…

You’d only been in the paddock a handful of times but every race weekend you had managed to have the worst encounter with the dutch man. The first time had been incidentally, you faintly recall the energy drink splashing all over your new dress. You knew from the get go that it had been an accident but when Max didn’t as so much as a muster a quick sorry and instead went on his way you had no choice but to hate him.

“He’s such a dick.” You murmur to yourself unaware your brother catches your words.

“Be nice.” Oscar motions towards the countless people recording him.

“I’m gonna get another drink.” You sigh.

The music resumes and you find yourself into a crowd of dancing couples. Your short orange dress sticks to you as you walk towards the bar. It’d been a long night with your brother not getting the result he hoped for. The post race recap inside the garage had been brutal as well. You had watched as the championship slipped from Lando’s hands and Max claimed victory once again. It had been the worst two hours of your life to say the least. You’re way too frustrated to even notice the man approaching you. In a split second you’re covered in something that smelled similar to…

“Asshole.” You mumble.

“Mini Piastri?” He gasps dramatically. “Why are you here? I wouldn’t think you’d be celebrating after tonight.”

“Well, the world doesn’t revolve around you.” You scoff. “Does it Max?”

“I’d argue that it does actually. Considering your mood, you’d be happier if your little boyfriend had actually managed to have a good race.” He taunts you.

“Look, can you get out of my way? I have to go clean up the mess you made.” You point towards the huge spots of alcohol on your dress.

You don’t even wait for him to respond before pushing past him, brushing shoulders in the process, to head straight to the bathroom. You do your best to dodge those who already have had a bit too much to drink, unaware that the dutchman is right behind you. It’s not until you’re opening the door and notice it takes a minute too long to close that you turn around and spot him. His white dress shirt is already half unbuttoned while his hair is a mess. You stare at him incredulously as he leaned against the sink.

“Max, you can’t be in here.” You state bluntly.

“I don’t recall you telling Lando to piss off when he followed you into the bathroom in Austin.” He counters.

“How do- What?” You’re taken aback by his words. How did he know?

He ignores your question choosing to walk towards you instead. You’re now face to face with the man that had taken away your team’s championship. His eye bags are dark and you can tell it’s been a while since he’s gotten a good needed break. His tousled hair falls perfectly on his head and by the way his arms flex you can tell he’s been putting extra effort into them at the gym. All of a sudden you’re nervous to be under his glare.

“Does your brother know what you and Lando do in secret?” He questions.

“You should leave.” You try to sound confident but your faltering voice exposes you.

Max just smirks at your words knowing he was getting under your skin. He still recalls the first time he ran into you, when he spilled half a can of red bull on you. He doesn’t know why he didn’t apologize but when he saw the anger in your face he realized why. You had looked so beautiful that day with the short orange sundress that did nothing to hide your cleavage. He still remembers the disappointment he felt when he saw you and Lando walk out of the restroom all disheveled. So, when he beat Lando tonight he felt absolutely no remorse.

His lips ghost yours for what feels like an eternity. You’re frozen in place wondering how his lips would taste against yours. Maybe it was the alcohol or the way his arms flex around you but suddenly you needed to know what he felt like. His arm tentatively grazes yours as it sneaks down to your knees. A gasp finds itself leaving your lips as your legs spread open instinctively. He wants to make fun of you, of the way you melt under him so easily, but he knows better. He can’t risk ruining the moment. It’s when Max inches his fingers closer to your thighs that you suddenly realize what’s happening. In a matter of seconds you push him off you and head out the door.

You’re barely four steps out when Max yanks you back and you hit his built chest. This time he doesn’t hesitate and grabs your jaw pulling your face towards his. Your lips meet in a heated kiss as his arms find their way around your waist. This time you’re the one that moves his hands from your wait to your ass. The confidence was beginning to build up and soon enough you’re tugging on his hair as his tongue enters your mouth.

“Max…” You moan and somehow it becomes the indicator that you want this. That you want him.

He pushes you flat against the cold brick of the hallway, the dimmed lights helping hide your bodies from the crowd. You’re lucky he holds you up because your legs feel like jello and if he lets go you might lose your balance. His hands roam your waist, back, and neck before he moves your hair out of the way. His lips leave a trail of wet kisses around your neck as his hands work their way down to your legs. They slowly glide up until he’s playing with the hem of your short dress. You can already feel his growing erection press against your ass.

“Tell me to stop and I will.” He groans against your ear.

You really want to tell him to fuck off but your body reacts differently. You’re shocked when instead of telling him to call it a night all you murmur is keep going. In a matter of seconds your dress is being pulled up towards your waist. You can’t help the whine that escapes your lips as he rubs your aching core through your panties.

“So wet already.” He groans. “For me or Lando?”

“Shut up.” You still find it in you to annoy him.

To your surprise he doesn’t hit you with another remark. Max had been an asshole to you long enough. Now, that you were in front of him practically falling apart he didn’t want to ruin the moment. There’s a brief moment of silence before his hand carefully moves your panties to the side exposing your core to the cool breeze. Your legs spread instinctively as his fingers tempt your folds. His fingers collect your slick as he explores you, the wet sound making him groan against you. Slowly, he brings one of his fingers to your hole entering it carefully.

“Fuck.” He moans against your ear as your cunt wraps tightly around his finger.

“Ma- Max. So close.” You’re barely able to say.

You let out a loud whine as he curls his finger inside of you leading to your climax. You come around his fingers as you coat them with your wetness. His fingers slowly move toward your mouth and you don’t hesitate as you take them into your mouth, tasting yourself. He almost comes undone as you lick his fingers seductively. Aggressively he grabs your jaw and kisses you. He groans as he tastes you.

You feel the tip of him first as he runs it up and down your folds teasing you. Your hands are weak against the wall as his tip approaches your aching hole. He enters you slowly, holding you tightly in the process. He stops halfway through not wanting to hurt you but when he hears your dirty moans he continues. Your nails dig tightly into his arms as he fills you up completely. He’s quite big and the new sensation has you spiraling trying your best to not fall against him. He takes advantage of your weakness and attacks your neck again making sure to leave love bites around your collarbone.

“Fuck, Max. You’re so big.” You whine without thinking.

You feel his dick twitch inside you at that. Your voice has him in a trance as he tries his best to not just start thrusting inside of you. It’s not until you start pushing your ass against him that he almost pulls out fully before thrusting back into you. His hands grip your ass tightly—surely leaving marks for tomorrow—as your cunt squeezes him. He’s never felt such a thrill, at least since Abu Dhabi, you were your own feeling. He couldn’t believe you had finally opened up to him in many ways you were way better than winning another trophy. Many curses escape your lips as he finds the perfect pace inside of you.

He manages to bend you over leading to the perfect position and somehow he’s even deeper inside of you. He grips your hair into a makeshift ponytail as he speeds up inside of you. His hand trails back to your cunt and slowly he starts playing with your folds. The feeling of his cock inside of you and fingers rubbing your folds is intense and you find a camisole feeling in your stomach approach you. You squeeze him tightly as his dick hits the right spot and you find yourself coming undone. You’ve never had an orgasm so intense in your life you don’t even notice how you coat his dick with your wetness.

Max isn’t far behind and speeds up at the feeling of your cunt squeezing him tightly. Your nails dig behind you at the overstimulation and stretch of his cock. Max hisses at the sensation finding it the tipping point. It’s not long before you feel his dick twitch inside of you and in a matter of seconds you feel him spill his seed inside of you. He grunts as he empties himself and as he pulls out. He pulls you up adjusting your dress in the process.

You bite your lip as he zips up his pants. The aftermath of your little rendezvous is different. Usually with others you don’t stay long enough to watch them dress themselves. But then you notice Max struggling with the buttons on his dress shirt and you find your hands on his chest again. You only button half of the shirt before stepping back. Neither of you say a word but the silence manages to speak for you both. You decide it’s time to go back but before you can take a step Max pulls you in for a final kiss before he leaves.

You’re barely able to walk back towards the VIP lounge and stumble multiple times in the process. You try your best to brush your hair down and fix your dress as you come closer to your brother’s booth. You sit down carefully unaware your brother is staring at you wide eyed and wondering why it took you almost an hour to get a drink. You shift awkwardly in your seat as Lily begins telling you both about her mixup at the airport. You turn around briefly as she goes into detail when you notice Max walking past your table. You keep your composure not wanting to expose your actions of the night but you should’ve known better. Oscar almost bursts out laughing at Max’s completely unbuttoned shirt.

“Lando’s gonna be pissed.” Your brother smirks.

“How do-” Did everyone know? “Oh, fuck off.”

The night progresses with your brother ordering countless bottles of Dom Pérignon. It’s almost five in the morning when Max takes the stage again with the DJ playing a remix of Super Max. As if on cue someone hands him a bottle of champagne and it doesn’t take long for him to start spraying it amongst those on the dance floor. You watch attentively as his chest shows the marks you left completely unaware of how your phone buzzes for the hundredth time that night.

9 missed calls from Lan

Lan: Tonight was shit.

Lan: Come over?

[astonmartinii]

big reputation | charles leclerc social media au

pairing: charles leclerc x fem reader

they may have a big reputation and they may be end game, but sometimes you need a push from your girlfriend to enter your reputation era

(also no hate to vasseur and sainz, it's just the way the fic had to go)

MASTERLIST | TIPS

f1newsandgossip

liked by user1, user2 and 13,209 others

f1newsandgossip: after ferrari's continued chaos and inability to get anything right it seems, do you think charles leclerc will stick around and renew his contract?

view all comments

user3: i love him and i love ferrari but if he wants any shot of winning a championship he has to leave

user4: i would die to see him at red bull or even mercedes

user5: would he want to be a second driver though?

user4: babes they treat him like he's the second driver at ferrari at least there he'd have a competent car and team

user6: yes ! he has to leave, no one at that team respects him anymore

user7: he should've left a long time ago but this season has to be the final nail in the coffin

user8: all he does it protect ferrari and ferrari don't even give a shit about him it's actually sad

user9: they don't even protect him from his teammate and his teammate's parents being rude about him in the media

user10: for real the man needs to stop being a team player and tell him how it is

user11: i feel so so bad for him because his childhood dream is turning into a nightmare and through no fault of his own

user12: i know y/n is absolutely seething and the only reason she hasn't said anything yet is because charles is so in love with the team that he won't say anything bad about them

user13: i need her to give him a lil slap around to get his head in gear

yourusername

liked by alexalbon, charles_leclerc and 1,309,556 others

tagged: charles_leclerc

yourusername: you and me got a big reputation

view all comments

user14: me being delusional: OMG THIS MEANS CHARLES IS FINALLY ENTERING HIS REPUTATION ERA

user15: and then we remember rep is an album about love first and revenge second :(

charles_leclerc: is this a taylor swift reference?

yourusername: yes it is !! i knew you were actually listening when i gave you the full eras breakdown

charles_leclerc: i'd listen to you talk about anything

yourusername: even the things you don't want to hear?

charles_leclerc: i think it has gotten to that point, yes.

user16: WHAT DOES THIS MEAN ^^ ???

alexalbon: when will i be freed from the shackles of having to take cute photos of you two

yourusername: NEVER

charles_leclerc: is a seat on my jet not enough?

alexalbon: YOUR JET? i have clearly missed something here

maxverstappen1: alex is always free to fly air max (MY jet, factually)

yourusername: when did this become a dick measuring contest? (charles would win, you can all go home)

maxverstappen1: i don't want you to see my dick

charles_leclerc: i should think not verstappen

alexalbon: i don't know how i hang out with you morons

user17: gosh y/n is so sexy

user18: i am allowing myself to live in delusion and after the shitshow that was austin, y/n is initiating the reputation era and charles will either give ferrari hell or actually leave

user19: idk that man might be completely in love with y/n but he's even more in love with ferrari

charles_leclerc: nothing compares to her

user20: WHAT DOES THIS ALL MEAN?

charles_leclerc

liked by georgerussell63, yourusername and 1,204,509 others

tagged: yourusername

charles_leclerc: hola mexico! can't wait for the weekend to start

view all comments

user22: post your team or car? no. post a random picture of your girlfriend? yes.

user23: he should post an explanation as to why his gf was being wined and dined by christian horner

yourusername: ZOOWEE MAMA

charles_leclerc: excuse me?

yourusername: instagram would ban me if i really said what i think

charles_leclerc: oh i'm blushing

yourusername: but always above all you are a cutie patootie

user24: i see posts like this and i wonder why do they always have break up rumours if they are this in love?

user19: bestie we simply cannot be believing everything we read, especially when it comes from a certain spanish paper

liked by yourusername

user24: wait what is this supposed to mean?

user19: any "insider source" at ferrari that has anti-leclerc info is usually the sainz family lol that's why other than ferrari being clowns in general charles needs to get the fuck out

pierregasly: rivalling me with just how much you post y/n

charles_leclerc: ummmm you've met her, and you wouldn't?

charles_leclerc: WAIT don't answer that

user25: so are we just ignoring that y/n was at dinner with CHRISTIAN HORNER?

user26: the red bull!charles dream a bit more feasible now and i am appropriately feral

user27: obsessed with how he's just ignoring the horner thing

user28: i am similarly obsessed with how the media are spinning this to an affair between y/n and horner LMAO

yourusername: he made us split the bill after ordering a really spenny wine :/

user29: I'M CRYING

user30: horner's like if i don't get a driver out of this dinner i will be having a nice glass of wine he's so real for that

scuderiaferrari: let's get it 💪

user31: GET A JOB. LEAVE HER ALONE

liked by yourusername

user32: lol she's so tired of being subtle

user33: TELL THEM SIS

f1

liked by yourusername, redbullracing and 1,450,667 others

tagged: charles_leclerc

f1: BREAKING: charles leclerc signs for red bull racing for 2024 on a four year contract

view all comments

user36: they're MUGGY for the first picture omg

user37: SOMEONE CALL THE EMERGENCY SERVICES FOR ME I CAN'T BREATHE

user38: wait so like who do i have to thank for finally making this happen?

user39: this has y/n y/ln written all over it - the dinner with horner finally makes sense

pierregasly: WHAT ?????????

user40: HE'S FINDING OUT AT THE SAME TIME AS US? DID ANYONE KNOW?

user41: THERE WILL BE NO EXPLANATION JUST REPUTATION

liked by yourusername

user42: okay since y/n and charles have referenced the reputation album so much during this whole fiasco .... taylor swift x charles leclerc piano ballad collab when?

user43: so this is il predestinato who has betrayed his team and completely blindsided him? this is why carlos has always been the superior driver

liked by carlossainz55

user44: not carlos liking this comment

yourusername: i wish he would say something with his chest, always hiding behind his parents and the spanish media ... yeah we know about that and we're no longer under that stupid contract so i can and will say this all to your face

user45: HOLY SHITTTTTTTTTT

carlossainz55: you got the move and attention you wanted stop trying to drag me into it

yourusername: babe there's a difference between you and i, you create fake cheating rumours to try and shake your teammate while your PR team is fulltime constantly having to threaten legal action over you not being able to keep it in your pants

user46: ERM QUEEN THEY STILL HAVE RACES TOGETHER

redbullracing: anyways.... WELCOME TO THE TEAM CHARLES

user47: admin what is going on?

redbullracing: i have no clue but as soon as that man is in a navy race suit i will get the tea trust

user48: so real of you

maxverstappen1: ☕️

user49: LMAO KING

yourusername: i have a feeling we might get on (no more inchidents though)

yourusername

liked by danielricciardo, charles_leclerc and 1,344,099 others

tagged: charles_leclerc

yourusername: they said i did something bad, why does it feel so good?

view all comments

user51: momma does not play oh my

taylorswift: proud 🖤 🐍

yourusername: approved by our lord and saviour, thanks mother

charles_leclerc: do you need a pianist?

taylorswift: i'm sure we can work something out

landonorris: ^^ this is so unfair i thought i was the swiftie on the grid :(

danielricciardo: my rendition of our song says otherwise

user52: she really said FUCK FERRARI AND FUCK YOU TOO

user53: as she should

charles_leclerc: i'm not a playboy but i do LOVE YOU

yourusername: i love you even more

charles_leclerc: NUH UH I LOVE YOU MORE

yourusername: i would literally fight every person on earth for your hand

charles_leclerc: oh wow ... mark me scared AND horny

alexalbon: okay that's ENOUGH

user54: i'm so glad she shook him out of the ferrari daze he. might finally have a chance at the championship now

user55: i'd be afraid that ferrari may build a good car next year but then i remember it's ferrari LOL

user56: so y/n mentioned under the f1 post about a contract? was she not able to say anything about ferrari while with charles?

yourusername: yes. i was not able to say anything they considered negative. many times when i expressed disappointment in how charlie has been treated i was reprimanded by ferrari and was banned from the paddock for weekends following any statements

user57: wtf that is crazy ??? makes sense as to why charles always blames himself when it was clearly a pit/strategy issue

yourusername: ferrari have attempted to keep charlie under wraps since his second season at the team. they were worried about him becoming outspoken like seb. this goes all the way down to his music which they tried to prevent him from releasing. i'm glad he'll be given the chance to show his talents next season

user58: thank the lord charles finally left. this is insane. the reputation era was well and truly needed.

maxverstappen1: kelly wants to know whether now you'll be wag teammates that you can raid each other's wardrobes?

yourusername: of course !!! i can't wait to see her more often coffee dates are a must ( + p of course)

charles_leclerc: i'm gonna beat your ass at padel i WILL be the padel king at red bull

maxverstappen1: i will show NO MERCY

yourusername: maybe this was a bad idea ...

charles_leclerc

liked by maxverstappen1, yourusername and 1,332,909 others

tagged: yourusername

charles_leclerc: it saddens me to my core to be leaving the team i always dreamed of racing for and winning with, but there comes a point in your career when it's time to put your ambitions above tradition. ferrari has always been the dream for me, but the last couple of years have been a nightmare. i never thought i'd be put in a position where i'd have feelings like these about the team i love, but the constant disrespect, betrayal and the treatment of my loved ones leaves me no other choice. despite this sad ending, i am looking forward to new opportunities at red bull, racing alongside an old friend and under a competent leadership. finally, thank you to y/n and my family for being there for me during this time despite the way we were all treated. i know i will get questions, but there will be no explanation, just reputation.

view all comments

user59: he really left comments open so we could drag ferrari

user60: and drag i shall do... that man despite the absolute tomfoolery got that shitbox on the podium and NONE OF YOU SHOWED UP

user61: for real, they're out here trying to show charles as petty but then KEEP PROVING HIS POINT LOL

yourusername: i am so unbelievably proud of you. i know this was a hard choice but it's the one you had to make. today and every other day i will always be there to support you even if no one else is

user62: subtle DRAG

charles_leclerc: i love you to the moon and to saturn

yourusername: you're my invisible string

yourusername: also this is what i mean when i say reputation is a love story with a side of shade

user63: i know binotto let out a sigh of relief that he dodged this shit storm

yourusername: that fraud is SO lucky i was under contract while he was there otherwise i'd drag his ass so bad he'd be bald

charles_leclerc: i don't know how he made it out of silverstone alive after the whole finger wagging saga, i had to hold her back

sebastianvettel: i hate to say i told you so .....

charles_leclerc: SEB ????? BUT I'M DOING IT NOW, I'M NOT WASTING IT (tell christian to give me the better strategies i know you're still the o.g golden boy)

maxverstappen1: you know i can see this right?

christianhorner: and me?

charles_leclerc: @yourusername baby please take the fall for me

yourusername: I COMMENTED THAT

maxverstappen1: you guys really aren't slick... you're lucky i already love you two

christianhorner: i feel like i need to brief PR already

yourusername: if it makes it any better i'm a great baker and very generous

redbullracing: WE'LL TAKE IT

user64: @netflix make sure there's a camera in that garage at ALL TIMES

pierregasly: proud of you calmar, i hope this works out better for you than it did for me

yourusername: NO ROOM FOR PITY PARTY HERE SIR

yourusername: wait that was rude, we love you pierre

charles_leclerc: thank you pierre

pierregasly: ummmmmm tell y/n she can't say that ???

charles_leclerc: she made me see the light kinda owe her everything rn, so sorry?

christianhorner: definitely brief PR

note: teehee here it is. MY GOD my writing block has been insane - i also went on a trip to london and got horrendously drunk and made AWFUL decisions. alas, i hope you guys enjoy this and the race later !!

EDIT: I AM SO FUCKING ANNOYED AT THIS RACE ONE DAY WHERE CHARLES IS NOT FUVKED OVER IS ALL I ASK WHAT DID HE DO TO DESERVE THIS

[motorsportbarbie13]

The Yapping Hour Is Upon Us - The Hardest Two Years

In which your relationship with Max is put to the test and you pass with flying colors.

Warnings: this one is heavy at the beginning. Mentions of miscarriages (no active miscarriage on the page, but discussions of them). pregnancy. babies. labor. preemie/NICU baby briefly mentioned. anxiety. Pairing: Max Verstappen x Podcaster!Reader Word Count: 5k words

- The Yapping Hour is Upon Us - The Yapping Hour is Upon Us - Part 2 - The Yapping Hour is Upon Us - Part 3 - The Yapping Hour is Upon Us - Part 4 - The Yapping Hour is Upon Us - Bonus Sessions - The Yapping Hour is Upon Us - The Royal Wedding - The Yapping Hour is Upon Us - The Wedding Night

(a note: whewwwwww this one has been such a labor of love. i hope you all have enjoyed reading this as much as i loved creating it!!!)

October 2026 Austin, Texas

TheYappingHour posted

293,202 likes liked by maxverstappen1, assistantshannon, christianhorner, and others. theyappinghour We're back babies!! It's been a wild year for us here at The Yapping Hour but we're so pleased to bring you a brand new interview featuring Red Bull Strategist Hannah Schmitz. I first met Hannah when Max and I were first dating and she spent countless hours answering my (often silly) questions with the utmost patience. I love talking to women in motorsport, especially women like Hannah that are sitting on pit wall with the rest of the boys. We talk glass ceilings, what it's like to be work in a male dominated field, and what it took to get where she is today on the episode. It is def not one to miss!! hannahschmitzengineer thanks for having me on, lady!! Love having you around the track more now. xo user9928 hannah gives me such good vibes. i love her sm. user011 so we're just going to ignore how @/yourpersonalinsta just ghosts for how many months after eloping, claiming she's suddenly 'too sick to work' while galavanting all over the globe with Max??? >>>user0028 I knew she was a gold digger this entire time but NOOOOO. No one wanted to listen to me! user1145 its totally fine if you just want to live that WAG life girl but be honest with us. And yourself. Marrying rich was always her goal, wasn't it? >>>user0090 ding ding ding!!

"Thank you again for coming on the show, Hannah! We get so many questions about women in motorsport so I know this episode is going to be so well received." You reach out your arms towards the strategy engineer, enveloping her in a hug. 

Hannah hugs you right back, giving you an extra squeeze. The two of you have always got on really well and you were happy that she had agreed to come on for an episode. It had been a rough year so far, so having an exciting episode to edit and put out was something that you were looking forward to. 

"Thanks for having me! We all miss your episodes in the garage. Everyone was excited to hear that you'd be back for at least one episode." She gives you a sad smile. Hannah is one of the few people that know the real reason behind your absence on socials this year. 

"It feels good to be back. Hopefully I'll be able to do some more things in the last bit of the year. I have a few things in the works." You give her the most positive smile you can muster but it's hard with the waves of nausea that started to roll through you in the last few moments. 

You barely hold it together as you walk Hannah out of the studio that you'd rented in downtown Austin ahead of the US Grand Prix this weekend. Max was back at the track finishing up some media duties but once you finish up with Shannon at the studio, you're going to head back to see him. 

Inside the studio, Shannon is working on packing up once you return from walking Hannah out. "Can you do me a favor?" You ask, voice hesitant. 

Shannon's head snaps up at the anxiety she can hear in your words. You two have been working together so closely for so long, you can both communicate with minimal looks and words now. She can read your mood almost as well as Max can. "Everything okay boss?" 

"Could you swing by the pharmacy before going back to the hotel and pick me up some..." You pause, needing a moment to work your tongue around the next words. "pregnancy tests." Your heart hammers in your chest. 

Shannon blinks at you, hesitant smile on her lips. "Of course." She says softly before reaching out to cup your elbow with a gentle hand. "You feeling okay?" 

Chuckling, you shake your head, "My lunch nearly made a reappearance when Hannah hugged me just now, which is weird because we wear the same perfume sometimes and that's what set me off." 

The moment that wave of nausea hit you, you had started counting back the weeks in your mind since your last period. You had instantly known because it was the kind of math you'd been doing for almost a year now, since getting your IUD out. 

What a year it had been. 

"I'd do it myself but there's a lot of media out this weekend and I've already been papped. There's already so much negative coverage out there, I don't want to give more fuel to the fire." 

Back in June you had made the difficult decision to put production on The Yapping Hour on hold for the near future, citing health issues. Most of your fans had been supportive but there had been a lot of backlash about how you were a gold digger and were only with Max for his money. People saw you traveling a lot with Max and assumed the 'health issues' were a cop out and that you were just lazy. Everyone in your inner circle knew it was absolutely untrue but the lies perpetuated by accounts like Deux Moi the F1 gossip accounts still stung. 

This year had shaped up to be the most challenging year for both you and Max, personally and professionally. With only a handful of races to go, Max was sitting solidly in second place in the drivers championship, behind a white hot Lando Norris who'd won 8 races already this year. While Max was still able to keep the fight going, the car had continued to deteriorate this year and even Mad Max could barely keep it on the road some weekends. It had been the hardest season of his entire career. 

Despite all the difficulties, both personal and professional, you and Max were stronger than ever. There hadn't been any other choice after you what you had gone through together. The 'health issues' that you had cited earlier in the year had actually been the three miscarriages you had suffered back to back to back since getting married in December. Through it all, the doctors appointments, the late nights spent sobbing in pain, the terror tinged excitement at each 'positive' test, Max had been there for you. He was an unwavering and unmoving well of support for you in the darkest of hours. 

Shannon's eyes go watery as she tugs at your hand. "Oh, mama..." 

You chuckle darkly, "Not a mom yet, Shan." 

Shannon shakes her head, "Yes you are. Those three precious babies were yours and will always be yours." 

Tears sting at the back of your eyes as you walk out of the studio still holding your assistant's hand. You knew she was right. You still felt that constant ache and connection to the babies you had lost, even the first one that you had lost at just four weeks when it was barely more than a bunch of cells. The anxiety that courses through you as you get in the back seat of the car that Max had sent for you is so overwhelming you nearly ask Shannon to stay with you. 

"I'll go get that stuff from the pharmacy then I'll drop them off at your room, okay? It'll be okay, boss." Shannon says warmly before shutting the door of the black SUV. 

All you can do is nod in response, hoping she's right. 

Hours later, you stand with your hands braced on the vanity in your hotel room. Max is caught at the track still, needing to meet with the engineering team for a bit longer than expected so you're left alone in the room just staring down at the box Shannon delivered to your door. 

There's a flood of mixed emotions swirling all together in your stomach as you look at the small white stick starting back at you tauntingly. You had wanted to wait for Max but at this point, you didn't know when he'd be back and you hadn’t been able to wait any longer. You'd been through this so many times this year and had seen that little plus sign three times already, all ending with heartbreak and pain. You weren't sure if you'd be able to survive another one. But at the same time, you had to know. 

Max opens the door to your shared hotel room quietly, wanting to surprise you by coming back early and taking you to dinner. You're not where he expected to see you though, snuggled up on the bed watching Netflix. 

The bathroom door is thrown open and he hears muffled sniffling floating out, sending his anxiety through the roof. After the year you've had, anything that's got you upset sends him off the deep end. He finds you leaning over the counter staring at something. Max stops in the doorway for a moment, watching your body language. Your hair is tied up in a messy bun and you're wearing nothing but one of his old sweatshirts that's seen better days. The tattered sleeves fall over your wrists, only allowing your fingers to peek out. He can barely see your wedding ring peaking out from the navy sweatshirt and for a moment, his mood shifts. Here you were, nearly a year later and he still gets love struck seeing you wearing his ring. His wife. It still stopped him in his tracks when he realized how lucky he was to have you and how lucky you both had been to survive this year so far. 

“Liefje?” He murmurs, leaning against the door frame. He doesn't want to scare you, so he keeps his distance at first. "Everything okay?" 

You startle a bit, hand flying to your throat when you gasp in surprise. "Max!" You breathe, eyes swimming with tears that haven't had a chance to fall yet. "I...I don't know." 

Max crosses the tiled floor, the cold biting into his feet through his socks. "Hey, what's got you so upset baby? Shhh..." He takes you into his arms, cradling you against his chest. You relish the warmth, your body having gone stone cold after seeing the results of the test you hadn't been able to wait for Max to take. 

"I nearly threw up after hugging Hannah today even though she was wearing one of my favorite perfumes." You tell him, nearly chuckling when he looks at you utterly confused. Extracting yourself from his grasp, you reach behind for the test and hold it up so he can see it.

"I'm pregnant, Max." 

The strangled sob that you choke out nearly takes Max to the ground. He folds you into his arms again, rocking you back and forth as you shake like a leaf. The miscarriages had been so hard on you, each one more difficult than the last. The memory of you, curled up on the bed when you had started bleeding during the third one, while you wailed about your body betraying you and how you were broken, hits him like a truck. He'd give anything to make this pain stop for you, to take away the fear and anguish that he can feel rolling off of you in waves. 

"Shhhh, schatje." He soothes, knowing that nothing he could possibly say will quell the terror you're feeling right now. 

"I can't lose another baby, Max. I can't. It’ll destroy me.” The only thing you wanted to do was protect this little life that was inside you right now, bits of you and bits of Max combined to make an entirely new human. You’d been here three times before and you’d failed. Your body had failed to keep the baby inside you safe and you didn’t know if it was going to happen again. The doctors had been baffled after every loss, telling you that there wasn’t any rhyme or reason to it, that sometimes losses happened and there wasn’t anything that could have been done about it. There hadn’t been any genetic abnormalities in any of the samples they’d taken, hadn’t been anything that you had done to make you lose the pregnancies. No, it had been completely and utterly random that your body just hadn’t been able to make a pregnancy stick. 

You’d never felt more like a failure. 

“My love, it will be okay. We’ll get through this, I promise.” Max wanted to tell you that you wouldn’t lose this baby either. He wanted more than anything to tell you that but the words wouldn’t come. He couldn’t tell you that because he didn’t know if it was true and telling you something that might turn out to not be true killed him. “We will always get through these things together, no matter what happens.” 

You pull back out of Max’s chest, needing to lose yourself in those icy blue eyes you were so obsessed with. You knew, deep down, that he was right. Max had been your constant source of support since the day you met him. You had no reason to doubt him and knew that he would get you through this even if you lost this baby too but that didn’t stop the fear from wrapping it’s sharp, cold fingers around your throat. “I’m so scared.” You whisper. 

Max runs a hand over the top of your head before framing your face. Brushing the pad of his thumb over your cheek, he smiles down at you. “I know.” He admits, knowing that you need to know that he’s in this with you right now and that you’re on the same page. “I am too, but like I said, we’ll get through this. We’ve got to make a plan, sitting here crying is just going to make your anxiety worse, okay?” 

You nod, grinning when he laces his fingers with yours to pull you out into the main part of the hotel room. He leads you over to the bed where he sits before patting his lap, inviting you to sit between his legs. With your back pressed to his chest, you snuggle into him as deeply as you can, enjoying the way his arms snake around you to clasp together over your tummy. “I’ll call Greg in the morning and have the jet take you back to Monaco and you can have Shannon make you an appointment with Dr. Mallkin. I’m sure he’ll get you in as soon as possible.” 

You freeze. “No, Max.” You protest, heart thrumming in your throat from the panic. “No, I don’t want to leave you. Not now. What if I lose it again and I’m half way around the world from you? Please, I don’t want to leave you.” You know you sound pathetic, begging like a scared little girl but you can’t help it. The thought of being alone in your apartment in Monaco while Max finished this triple header to Mexico and then Brazil sent frigid shivers of fear zinging through your veins. 

Max tucks his head into the crook of your neck, mouthing at the warm skin there. “Shhh…Okay, Schatje. You don’t have to go back to Monaco but you absolutely can’t come to Mexico and Brazil with me. The travel and stress won’t be good for you, you know that.” 

You both sit in silence for a few moments, each contemplating what can be done. There was no way you were going to go back to Monaco right now but you also knew that traveling down to Mexico and then Brazil wouldn’t be good for you or the baby and you desperately needed this baby to stick. 

“What if we flew you to your parents up in California?” Max suggests, breaking the silence first. “You could go spend a few weeks with them, get in to see a doctor up there to just check and make sure everything looks okay and then when I’m done in Brazil, I’ll fly to get you and we can go back to Monaco together? We have a three week break after Brazil so you won’t be alone for a bit.” 

The thought of going back to your childhood home for a few weeks was immensely appealing. “And then maybe I could do Qatar and Abu Dhabi with you to finish out the year if everything is good and Dr. Mallkin gives me the okay?” 

Max is quiet, not wanting to agree to any more travel than absolutely necessary but when your head swivels around to look at him, pleading look on your face, he caves. “If Dr. Mallkin gives you the okay, we can do that.” 

Monaco May, 2027

yourpersonalinsta posted

yourpersonalinsta we've been hiding a little secret. baby verstappen due in july and we couldn't be more excited. (tagged: maxverstappen1) kikagomes ahhhhh i can finally talk about this in real life!! so excited for you bestieeeee >>>yourpersonalinsta love you!! user0029 ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!! baby verstappen incoming! user0445 july?! oh my god, they hid this for so long! user442 omg that's why she hasn't been at races this year! bet all those assholes predicting a divorce feel like assholes now redbullracing already have the mini f1 car in the garage for baby verstappen!!

33 weeks. You had made it pas the danger zone. That little tiny bean in your belly had dug itself in so deep that you hadn’t lost this baby, much to your delight and surprise. Those early weeks you had spent with your parents in California had been some of the scariest days of your life. Every time you went to the bathroom you had expected to see blood everywhere. But it had never come. When Max had finished with Mexico and Brazil, he had flown to get you before taking you back home. The rest of the season panned out exactly like you had expected: Lando had won his first world championship with Max finishing a close second. 

A few weeks into winter break, Max had approached you one afternoon while you lounged on the couch in your Monaco apartment. There would be no long distance travel for you this winter break due to the precarious state of your pregnancy. You had been cleared to go to Qatar and Abu Dhabi to see the rest of the season pan out, but after that, Dr. Mallkin had effectively grounded you. ‘I want to retire’ was the bomb Max had dropped on you that afternoon. You had been silent for several minutes, letting the implications of his statement sink in before you had been able to respond. If there was one thing that drove you insane about Max was how he was always threatening to retire despite being absolutely awful at sitting still and relaxing so you had never taken his whinging seriously. Until that afternoon. 

In the end, after several hours of discussion and back and forth, you had convinced Max to give it one more season. He couldn’t let his career end on such a low note, losing out on his sixth championship. He had wanted to retire to spend more time with you and the baby but you knew he’d be restless and that he wasn’t ready to retire just yet. In the end, you had come up with a compromise: he’d race for the 2027 season and you and the baby would travel with him for the second half of the season so he wouldn’t miss any of the big milestones. You were due sometime in July, which was perfect timing. If everything worked out, you’d have the baby right around the summer break and by the time racing started back up in Belgium, you’d be ready to take the baby on the road. 

But in the end, it didn’t end up working out like that. 

The Monaco Grand Prix was one of your favorite weekends, even if Max hated it. He didn’t like how busy the city became. Hated how loud and noisy the streets were. Secretly hated the track due to how difficult it was to actually race and overtake, despite dominating the track in recent years.

Earlier in the week, you had finally shared the news of your pregnancy on social media, having waited until you were nearly full term before breathing even a word of it to anyone outside of your inner circle. You had stopped traveling to races weeks ago and your presence had been wildly noted all over the gossip accounts, some even going so far as to start rumors that you and Max were already divorced. So imagine everyone’s surprise when you posted the photos of your belly gently covered by Max’s hands. People went wild. 

Sunday morning, you’re in Red Bull hospitality sitting with Liam’s girlfriend Hannah and Kika while Max is in the garage getting prepped for the race in a few hours. During last year’s silly season, there had been some major reshuffling of the teams and Pierre had been welcomed back into the Red Bull stables as Max’s teammate. Liam was still driving for VCARB alongside Franco Colopinto who had taken the second seat after Yuki had left to join Aston Martin this season. 

Your left hand sits lightly on your ever expanding belly as you listen to Kika gush about Pierre proposing last week during the little break the grid had had when something that feels like an electric shock snaps across your stomach. “Oh.” You gasp, sitting up a bit straighter in your chair. 

Hannah immediately clocks the pain that streaks across your face and reaches for your hand. “Are you okay?” 

The pain takes your breath away momentarily but as quick as it comes on, it’s gone. A few deep breaths and everything rights itself. “Yeah, just some ligament pain or something. My doctor said now that I’m further on I could start getting Braxton Hicks but that it wasn’t a huge deal as long as they’re not steady or coming in regular intervals.”

“If it happens again, I’m telling Max.” Kika says, face full of worry. Since Pierre’s resigning with Red Bull, the two of you had gotten closer and she was one of your best friends now. You knew she’d 100% tattle on you to Max, who had turned into an even more intense mother hen the closer you got to the end of your pregnancy. 

“Oh, that’ll go over well.” You roll your eyes. “He’ll flat out refuse to race even if they’re just false labor pains. Mouth shut, Kiks.” You order, raising a brow in challenge. 

Kika just rolls her eyes back at you, folding her arms over her chest. “Fine.” 

Everything goes back to normal for the next few hours. You sit in the Red Bull hospitality with Shannon, Kika, and Hannah by your side to watch the race, not having near enough energy to stand in the garages for the race. Max had started P2 but had managed to pass Lando somewhere on lap 15 and had been in the lead ever since. 

And then, suddenly, all hell breaks loose. 

“Fuck.” You hiss, clutching at your stomach as Max starts the last 15 laps of the race. 

Kika’s head whips towards you, panic in her eyes. “What?” 

“Fuck fuck fuck fuck.” You mutter, standing up to look at the puddle you’ve left in the black plastic chair. “I think my water just broke.” 

“What?!” Kika shrieks, causing the entirety of the hospitality suite to turn their heads in unison to look at you. “What?” She whispers a second time, just as urgent but quieter this time. 

“I think I’m in labor.” You work to keep the fear out of your voice but you fail. You’re not full term yet, you can’t be going into labor. This baby needed to stay cooking for a few more weeks. Panic strangles you as Hannah reaches for your hand. A sharp, shooting pain has you crying out, once again drawing attention to your little table. “Oh fuck, I think I’m in labor. I’m only 33 weeks Hannah, I can’t be in labor.” 

The pain of your three miscarriages comes charging back, terror flooding your system at the thought of losing a forth baby, this one so far into your pregnancy. The kicks, the hiccups, everything has made this pregnancy so much more real. You didn’t think you’d survive another loss.  

Hannah, who just finished her first year of medical school, squeezes your hand. “Good news is, 33 weeks is viable out of the womb but we should still get to the hospital. Little dude is going to be a bit on the small side.” 

“Oh for fucks sakes.” You groan, knowing Max is going to lose his shit. He’d been worried about this exact scenario more than you cared to think about. His orders had always been to have GP or Christian tell him over the radio if you ever went into labor during a race and he’d stop right then and there. 

“There’s only 15 laps to go.” You glance up at the TV screen above you. “Okay, 14 now. I’m not leaving until he’s out of that car and we’re not saying a word to him until he’s taken the checkered flag.” You stare pointedly at Kika, who had leapt out of her chair when you had declared you were in labor, presumably to go straight to the garage and tattle on you. 

“You most certainly are not waiting until he’s finished to leave, are you insane?” Hannah whispers, trying to avoid drawing even more attention to you. “I’m going to find a car to take us to the hospital, which should be interesting considering half the city is shut down. We might need an ambulance.” 

“I am not leaving the paddock in an ambulance!” You gasp as another contraction hits you, stealing your breath from your lungs. 

“You’re not going to have a choice.” Hannah turns to Shannon. “Can you go to the garage and tell GP that she’s in labor and that the moment he’s out of that car, he needs to get his ass to the hospital. Kika, stay here with her and try to keep her calm.” 

While the drama is unfolding in the hospitality building, Max is working on winning his fourth race of the season, the car feeling better than it has all season. When Hannah finally finds a medical official, telling him that there’s a woman in pre-term labor that needs to get to the hospital immediately, Max crosses the finish line in P1. 

GP immediately comes on the radio. “Max, we need you in right now, no cool down lap.” 

“What? What’s wrong?” Confusion plays at the edge of his voice as he starts towards the pits on the other side of the track. 

In the garage, GP glances at Shannon, who shakes her head. “Just get to the garage now, okay?” 

In his gut, he knows it’s about you. He knows instantly just by the sound of GP’s voice. Something’s wrong, he can feel it in every nerve ending of his body. “Is she okay?” 

“She’s okay for now.” 

Relief floods Max’s system as he desperately tries to get back to the garages without hitting anything or anyone, which is proving to be very difficult. All he can think about is you and getting to you as fast as possible. Was it the baby? He had known it was a bad idea for you to be out in the paddock today. Had thought there was too much excitement and activity for you to be out and he was kicking himself for allowing you to be here even though deep down, he knew that you would have been here no matter what. He just hoped he didn’t regret agreeing to it. 

Shannon goes to Max first and explains everything. How your water had broken with 15 laps to go. How Hannah had found an ambulance to take you across town to the hospital. How you were probably already there, Kika and Hannah both riding along with you in the ambulance so you weren’t alone. How you were scared but putting on a brave face for everyone, which Max thought was very typical of you. 

Christian sidles up to Max next. “There’s a car waiting for you with a police escort to Princess Grace Hospital. That’s where they took her. Go, we’ll take care of any FIA fines or hubbub.” 

Max doesn’t need to be told twice before taking off, still sweaty in his race suit. As he’s racing out of the garage, Shannon calls after him. He pauses, despite not wanting to but grins when she holds out a bag for him. “Thought you might want a change of clothes for when you get to the hospital.” 

Max snags the bag out of her hands before giving her a warm smile. “Thanks, Shan.” 

“Now go! Your wife is having a baby!” 

There’s a reverent hush that blankets the NICU in the middle of the night. The floor is near empty, only one other baby in the little clear covered crib besides your baby. It’s been hours since you gave birth but you’re finally up and out of bed, sitting in the wheelchair Max brought for you in your room moments ago. 

“The doctor says he’s a fighter.” Max murmurs, hand clasped on your shoulder. 

Tears burn before spilling down your cheeks as you take in the baby in front of you. He’s only 33 weeks and a tiny little wisp of a baby, but the pediatrician that was on call when you came in is confident that he’ll be okay with some extra attention that being in the NICU will bring. “He’s so small.” You whisper, reaching up to grasp at Max’s hand. 

Max had gotten to the hospital just in time. Kika and Hannah had been at the head of your bed when he had burst into the hospital room just as you had been feeling the need to start pushing. He had been white as a ghost, paler than you’d ever seen him but the moment you laid eyes on him, you had burst into tears. “Max.” You sobbed as Kika and Hannah discreetly showed themselves out of the birthing suite. They had stayed in the waiting room for the next several hours though, neither wanting to leave before knowing how you and the baby were doing. 

Like he had been doing since the moment he walked into your life, Max had never left your side and had been the single source of strength you had drawn on during the entire labor process. Everything moved so quickly you hadn’t had a chance to even ask for an epidural so you had labored completely naturally. In the end, it hadn’t really mattered because your labor had progressed so quickly Dr. Mallkin had barely had time to get his scrubs on before the baby was crowning. 

“What are we going to call him?” Max asks, staring down at the tiny baby boy. He still couldn’t wrap his head around the fact that he had come so early and that he was now a dad. It terrified him just as much as it thrilled him. He was so proud of you as well, the entire labor process something that he had to just sit back and watch in awe. If Max hadn’t thought that you were the stronger one in the relationship before, he most certainly thought it now. 

“I like the name Theodore.” You say, reaching out to brush your fingers on the clear plastic that held your tiny cherub of a baby. “Theo for short.” 

Max’s heart gave a squeeze. “It’s perfect. What about Theo Nicholas.” 

Your head whips around to stare at your husband. “Nicholas? Like, my dad Nicholas?” 

“I think it suits the little guy well, don’t you? And I like the idea of him carrying on your dad’s name. One of the greatest men I’ve ever had the privilege of knowing.” 

Now you were really sobbing. The fact that it had been Max to suggest giving his son your dad’s name for a middle name created this soft, gooey center in your stomach. “I love you so much, Max.” You say, choking back another sob. 

Max leans down, pressing a kiss to your cheek as he watches the son you’ve given him sleep peacefully. “I love you too, schatje. I love you both.” 

maxverstappen1 posted

1,208,391 likes liked by yourdad, yourpersonalinsta, kikagomes, and others maxverstappen1 baby boy couldn't wait until july to make his grand entrance. tiny verstappen is here and life couldn't be better. forever in awe of you @/yourpersonalinsta. being a momma looks good on you, schatje. love you forever. yourpersonalinsta love you more, maxie. you're already the worlds best dad to theo. >>>user9383 THEO??? that is the cutest name >>>user2993 they're literally life goals oh my GODDDDD charlesleclerc congratulations friend!! gorgeous family you've got there. redbullracing love seeing max in his dad era!

yourpersonalinsta posted

1,598,019 likes liked by maxverstappen1, hannahstjohn, assistantshannon, and others yourpersonalinsta welcome to the world theodore nicholas verstappen. you are already so loved, baby boy. (tagged: maxverstappen1) maxverstappen1 my 2 favorite people on this planet. you're already such an amazing mother, baby. love you to the ends of time. >>>user458 i'm sobbing hannahstjohn he is the cutest little turkey ever. i am so in love with him! congrats mama!!! >>>yourpersonalinsta thank you for forcing me into that ambulance otherwise we could have had a paddock baby on our hands >>>user0938 this is such f1 lore, i love it

Tags: @shelbyteller @formulaal @martygraciesversion381 @longhairkoo @samantha-chicago

[acesofspadess]

Private not Secret

oscar piastri x artstudent!reader

warnings: PDA

summary: after telling Oscar you couldn't make it to the triple header, a surprise awaits him

You and Oscar had been dating for years now. Having met each other at 14 when he originally moved to England the moment you knew what dating was, you and him were. With Oscar pursuing his racing career and being gone a lot, your move to France for art school wasn’t to big of a difference for you. You both visited each other as much as your schedules allowed and supported each other's dreams the entire way through.

Life always had a way of connecting you and Oscar, having gone to the same school as Alexandra, Charles Leclerc’s friend when you met, and now girlfriend, you two quickly became best friends and graduated the school together.

Since Oscar joined McLaren you were at every race possible, the fans knew who you were, but the relationship was private. They saw more of you and Alex then they saw of her and Charles and you and Oscar.

The triple header had arrived, and you were finishing a painting you should have already finished. You had already told Oscar you wouldn’t make it to the triple header at all, but you wanted to be there for him and worked relentlessly through the Austin GP week and weekend to fly out to the Mexico City GP and surprise him.

You had planned everything out with Alexandra on how you would surprise Oscar, and finally, Thursday was here. Alexandra had snuck you into McLaren’s hospitality area while Oscar was busy with press obligations, the orange badge around your neck feeling both familiar and surreal as you scanned the room.

You straightened out your papaya-colored dress, the one Alexandra had helped you pick out with a grin and a teasing, “You’re really going to make an impression.” The color was unmistakably McLaren’s signature shade, and you hoped the small detail would make Oscar smile.

Charles and Alexandra had agreed to help capture the moment, with Charles stationed nearby, phone ready to film. You took a steadying breath, glancing at Alexandra, who gave you a thumbs-up before you saw her disappear into the corner with Charles, both ready to witness the moment unfold.

Your heart raced as you heard familiar footsteps approaching, and you shifted a little, trying to look casual, trying to blend into the scene even as you felt the anticipation bubbling over. And then, there he was, standing just a few feet away, with his McLaren jacket casually slung over one shoulder, clearly preoccupied with a conversation with Lando. He hadn’t noticed you yet, and you felt a mixture of nerves and excitement knot in your stomach as you waited for him to look up.

“Oscar,” you heard Charles say, a faint amusement lacing his voice, likely nudging Oscar’s attention in your direction.

Oscar turned, his gaze sweeping across the room in confusion—until his eyes landed on you. He froze, blinking as if trying to process what he was seeing. A beat passed, and his entire expression softened, disbelief and joy flickering across his face.

“Y/N?” he murmured, voice filled with a mix of wonder and excitement. And in that moment, it felt like the whole room faded away, leaving only the two of you.

You managed a little wave, your heart thundering as he closed the distance between you, his gaze locked on you like he couldn’t quite believe it. When he reached you, his hands immediately found your waist, pulling you close.

“I thought you weren’t coming,” he said, his voice just above a whisper, his hand moving to cradle your face gently. You noticed his eyes soften as he took in the papaya dress, a smile tugging at his lips.

“I wanted to surprise you,” you replied, grinning. “Did I succeed?”

Oscar let out a breathless laugh, his thumb brushing softly against your cheek. “Completely.”

And then, in an uncharacteristic move for him, Oscar leaned in and kissed you—right there, in front of everyone. His lips met yours with a mix of excitement and tenderness, and you felt the warmth of his hand on your cheek as he held you close, completely oblivious to the people around you.

You heard faint cheers and whistles from the background, with Charles likely adding his own commentary to the video. But Oscar didn’t pull away, only deepening the kiss, as if he didn’t care who was watching. When he finally leaned back, his forehead pressed against yours, he let out a shaky laugh.

“You really outdid yourself this time,” he murmured, giving you another quick kiss as his fingers laced with yours, still smiling. “Best surprise ever.”

You laughed softly, heart still racing as you took in the look in his eyes. “I love you so much.” He shook his head. “I love you, Osco.”

“It’s catching on!”

“Lando!”

alexandrasaintmleux added to their stories

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oscarpiastri just posted

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fan3 the most emotion we’ve ever seen oscar have

fan4 can we talk about her dress?! chef’s kiss

yourusername I love you

oscarpiastri I love you baby, thank you for the surprise

landonorris Osco😂

mclaren driver or pillow?

yourusername c) all of the above

[kitscutie]

public eye (drew starkey x fem!reader)

pairing: drew starkey x reader

warnings: none, all cute shiz and some sexy moments. ;) shotgunning smoke, make out.

summary: all the times the public thought the two of you were dating, and the one time they knew.

a/n: sorry I've been on such a long break, life got a bit busy recently but i'm hoping to get back into writing - especially for drew! also sorry if the use of arse scares anyone - im british x

requests open!

word count: 1.8k

You and Drew has always been close. The cast were aware, the fans were aware. Ever since season one of Outer Banks came out, and both of your statuses grew, people began to dig. Your relationship friendship dated all the way back to your teenage years, doing multiple high school theatre shows together, and going on to attend the same University.

This also meant that there were a lot of photos and videos of the two of you being stupid kids, and while you had never explicitly said you were dating, even denying it to this day, there were early on suspicions.

A main one being the hundreds of photos together at family events, arms wrapped around each other, in some his jacket thrown over your shoulders as weddings went on into the night.

Though, the more incriminating stuff came much more recently, as now people knew who you were and so what was and wasn't posted was no longer in your control.

→ Sleeping Angels

The first video to cause rumours was posted onto Chase's story. It was short, only fifteen seconds or so, meaning no one was really concerned about what it might cause.

It was clearly from the set of OBX as the trailer surrounding you was littered with both cast and crew members, all shuffling around while you and drew were the complete contrast.

The pair of you were lying (quite comfortably) on a leather l-shaped sofa in the corner of the room. You could hear what you assumed to be Chase and Rudy giggling as they approached, laughing at how tightly Drew held you to him.

You were wrapped closely into his chest, arms lying softly on his wait while on of his held the back of your head, the other tucked under your t-shirt (which was actually your characters wardrobe and not your own) sitting on your back.

They couldn't see your face, but judging by Drew's closed eyes they could assume you were asleep.

Ever so gently the boys began to take gummy worms from their pockets. Each placing one in both of Drew's ears, and finally one was wedged into his mouth which woke him up.

At first, he was confused, looking down at you but upon seeing you still asleep his eyes looked up, squinting to avoid the lights. Unable to hide their humour at the situation anymore Chase and Rudy burst into laughter, Drew joining but much quieter due to his sleepy state as he threw the gummy worms back at the pair.

The removal of his hand on your back is what brought you back to the non-sleeping world. Hearing a mumbled 'fuck off' from Drew as he smiled at the two boys.

"What's happening?" You mumbled, utterly confused, hair sticking up in every direction and Drew quickly attempted to smooth it down maintaining your dignity as you were filmed.

"Nothing. Ignore these idiots ba-." The camera quickly shut off, leaving the viewers intrigued. What had Drew been about to say? Was it an accident? It was all unclear.

Of course with obsessed fans it didn't take long for rumours to fly, the main one being that the words coming out of his mouth were to be 'baby'. They were right. Thought you wouldn't tell them that, not yet at least.

→ Poguelandia

The next clip to blow up and cause hysteria was the two of you at the Outer Banks season three event 'Poguelandia'. You had arrived together and explored together, alongside Austin, your arm linked through the two boys'.

You talked to fans, played minigames and drank. Drank a lot. Which you blamed for your obliviousness when acting a bit too close to Drew for someone who wasn't dating him. To be fair, he also could've avoided it and yet neither of you did.

It happened as the cast and close friends stood atop the exclusive stage, all singing and dancing together as bands played - especially when 'Left hand free' came on.

You mostly behaved for the first twenty minutes, dancing with Madelyn, Madison and Carlacia but soon you wanted to spend some time with Drew, tending to get clingy when tipsy.

You began your walk over as the video begun, Madelyn attempting to grab your arm but it was a futile attempt as now, with him in your sights, you were determined.

The girls looked concerned before Austin- who was stood with Drew- leaned over and whispered something to them all, waving off their concern as they continued to dance and the camera now panned to you and the much taller boy.

You were talking, pressed against the edge of the silver fence which kept you from falling as the crowd kept growing around you.

As you got bumped by an unknown person Drew wrapped his arm around your waist, offering you a sip of his drink which you gladly took but soon regretted as you realised it was beer.

He chuckled with a smirk already knowing you didn't like it. Then he said something, but as the camera was miles away the viewers began to assume, and being reasonable, it did look awfully similar to 'sorry, sweetheart' before you received a gentle kiss to your forehead.

Soon after you joking turned away in annoyance, facing the stage and beginning to sway, your front pressed against the fence, back against Drew's stomach. He wrapped his hand around your waist, beginning to sway with you and you could tell the Filmer subtly freaked out as the camera jolted for a few seconds before it zoomed in further.

It showed Austin wide eyed as he searched the crowd for anyone watching. Not seeing anyone he shrugged taking a sip from his plastic cup before once again dancing with a smile.

Unfortunately, he had been wrong and once again your and Drew's relationship was being speculated.

→ Italy

The final clip of you and Drew which went viral without real confirmation of anything more than a close friendship was while he was filming in Italy.

After being spotted out and about alone for months, suddenly you appeared by his side wearing a pretty sundress, once again arm linked through his.

He wore a cap and you both wear sunglasses, looking like typical celebrities avoiding being spotted, though now it was known he had been here for months it was near impossible.

You were stood calmly in a corner attempting to navigate the way to a restaurant you were going to try when a small group of girls approached you both.

They explained they were big fans of Outer Banks and both of your characters in said show, asking very politely for a photograph in their adorable Italian accents.

They began screen recording in order to be able to capture the whole interaction, as fans often did and it was decided you would take the photo as you were in the middle, the girls on one side, drew on the other.

The viewers watched as you took the phone, hand briefly passing the camera showing a thick silver band ring, in it was a delicately carved cursive 'D'.

As soon as the girls watched the video back and saw it they posted the video to Tik Tok, it garnering as much attention as you imagined it would when showing something so potentially interesting.

What they didn't expect, however, was the further observations. The most major being the necklace that had been in almost every photo of Drews for the past few years, the charm which hung from the end now looked weirdly similar to your necklace, and the viewers couldn't help but wonder if it was a matching one of his own, with your initial carved instead of his.

It was.

→ The Conformation.

The final and real proof to all the fans who suspected you and Drew may be together was a video of the two of you at a cast night out in South Carolina at a club.

The two of you were stood outside of said club, clearly trying to cool down as both of you faces were red, Drew's shirt unbuttoned at the top, his chest rosy must like his cheeks.

He was leant against the wall of the club, legs wide as you stood between them, hands placed on his hips ever so slightly holding his shirt between your fingers.

Your dress which was black and almost fully covered in diamonds shimmered under the moonlight and you could see mouth something along the lines of 'you look beautiful' followed by you leaning forward, burying your smiling face into his neck.

His hand, which wasn't holding a lit cigarette came up to hold the back of your head, throwing his own back against the bricks in a laugh, clearly finding your bashfulness cute.

Soon enough the conversation turned from casual to flirty, body language changing in a way so blatant, you could tell from the other side of the screen.

Your hands moved from his waist to around his neck, hands linked behind his head as his spare hand held your waist, thumb soothing over the fabric covered skin every once in a while.

Realising his cigarette had been left unattended for a while, Drew brought it up to his lips, inhaling deeply. A wordless conversation ensued between the two of you as he brought you closer, mouths inches from each other as he exhaled into your mouth.

The smirk was evident on his lips as you blew the smoke from yours in turn, quickly pulling you in once again - this time your mouths connecting in a speedy rhythm.

You struggled to keep up due to his height, stretching onto your tip toes even in the platform boots you had put on for this very reason. He realised this, laughing, eyes still closed and lips still next to yours as he decided to lean down further to meet you instead.

As the kiss grew more intense, tongues now making appearance and putting on a show for the whole street, his hands reached down (having long since threw the cigarette to the ground) holding your arse between his palms.

Sadly, your moment was put to an end as a relieved looking JD ran out of the clubs door, seeing the two of you.

He patted you on the back, a blush covering his cheeks - from the heat or the intrusion it was unclear - and said something to the two of you before leaving and giving you a moment to gather yourselves.

You both stood up fixing your postures and straightening each others clothes before you shared one final peck, soon after heading inside, hands entangled.

Soon after, the video was posted onto every single social media platform with the caption, Y/N L/N AND DREW STARKEY MAKE IT OFFICAL DURING STEAMY KISS OUTSIDE SOUTH CAROLINA CLUB.

If only they knew you had been dating for years and this was most definitely not the first 'steamy kiss' the two of you had shared.

[thorsenmark]

The Sun is Rising, and I Am Flying West by Mark Stevens Via Flickr: An airplane window view looking to the east-northeast while on an American Airlines flight from Austin to Phoenix Most of the flight was in the early morning hours before the sun had risen, but I had been keeping a watchful eye for any brightness to indicate a sunrise. Finally, while flying over Arizona, I caught this setting and angled my Nikon Z8 Mirrorless Camera to capture it. The composition of the image was somewhat limited, given the location of the sun, the direction of the flight, and minimizing any framing from the window edges. But I was able to work with the airplane wing in getting a look across it to the rising sun. I did some initial post-processing work making adjustments to contrast, brightness and saturation in DxO PhotoLab 8. I then exported a TIFF image to Nik Color Efex Pro 7 where I added a Polarization and Pro Contrast filter for that last effect on the image captured.

[formula-ghost]

Read Your Diary (FC43 x fem!reader)

Chapter 3: Gossip

CHAPTER SUMMARY: You’ve always felt like you belonged right at Franco’s side, but as he begins to grow in popularity, you begin to wonder if his world has any place for you. 

WORD COUNT: 7.7k

WARNINGS: Hurt/comfort. Use of YN, mentions of anxiety disorders/therapy, reader has major self esteem issues and panic attacks. Appearance of Christian Horner (that man needs his own CW). There is a “manager” character that is not a reference to any of Franco’s IRL managers!

TAGLIST: @scopeiguess @storyteller-le @htpssgavi @wierdflowerpower @justsisse @xivilivix

A/N: I can’t thank you all enough for all the love you’ve shown on this fic 💙 It’s been incredible. I do want to sincerely apologize for leaving you with all this cliffhanger before I have to take a small hiatus with the holidays haha. I played around a bit with perspective in this chapter, so I hope it still reads clearly! Also, if you want to be added to the tag list, make sure your blog isn’t set to hidden and that you allow tags or else I’ll be unable to do that on my end. As always I hope you enjoy it :)

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5

Sip the gossip, drink ‘til you choke

Sip the gossip, burn down your throat

You’re not iconic, you are just like them all

Don’t act like you don’t know 

Austin had been beautiful, and you had written down every word you could describing it. Mexico, however, was a race you wouldn’t exactly want to document.

It started out okay. Franco’s Forbes cover shoot was released, and, as predicted, it blew up the internet. Of course, you were happy for him. But to see the entire world want him almost as much as you wanted him was…disheartening.

For a long time, it had just been you and Franco. He had clawed his way up and earned everything he had achieved through hard work and unmatchable determination. You were his biggest fan and supporter. And it was just you and him against the odds.

You had been so happy for him to make it to F1 after all he’d worked for. And to see the world embrace him so wholeheartedly was beautiful. But you were scared, deep down, that you’d lose him in the glitz and glamor of pilot stardom. 

His place at Williams was only temporary, of course, but you knew that when he did eventually get a secure seat, your friendship would have to change. After all, you couldn’t fly around the world with him forever. But you figured you’d adapt, like you always did. It would all be okay in the end. Franco never gave you any reason to believe that you’d get left behind. 

That is, until Mexico. 

You barely saw him at the beginning of the week, with him being so busy filming for brand sponsorships. Come the weekend, a phone call from home had soured his mood. You let it be, knowing that now was the time to just support him in any way you could, even if that was just giving him space.

But on Saturday he had woken up feeling better, and you were happy, thinking that he’d turn this weekend around for the better. Mexico was full of Argentine fans, and again, you were both ecstatic for him and feeling a bit left behind. You weren’t from Argentina. You didn’t really speak Spanish. These random fans had that connection with him that you’d never have. 

You pushed it down—for now. You’d write about it later. 

But now you were on your way to Williams hospitality to meet Franco. He was beaming when you’d seen him at breakfast that morning. Some big Argentine musicians were coming to the paddock.

You would have been happier for him if he had introduced you to them. But now you sat in hospitality with Franco and the group, and they all completely ignored you. Franco hadn’t even introduced you.

Yes, you were naturally on the quieter side. Yes, you didn’t speak Spanish, which they now all excitedly talked in, laughing about something you’d never know. But did that really mean that you deserved to sit there, awkwardly glancing at your phone as your best friend ignored you?

And all the while, he was glancing over to the female singer sat opposite him. God, she was beautiful. And from Franco’s tone, you could tell he thought so too. He was flirting with her right in front of you.

Yes, you were just friends. But you had slept in his bed with him curled up into your side. He had celebrated every win with you since you were teenagers. But right now, you were nothing.

You just kind of stared off into the distance until you saw a familiar face. Lily to the rescue! She came over and waved to Franco and the group, who stopped their conversation for a brief second to wave back. 

“Hey YN, wanna come help us film a video?” she asked. Clearly this was just an out to help you escape the torture of being ignored. 

“Sure,” you agreed. When you got up to leave, Franco didn’t even acknowledge you. 

You and Lily walked into the garage. “Thank you for helping me out there.”

“Yeah, you looked like you were going through it. Were they that bad?”

“Well, I don’t know. Franco never even introduced me and I don’t speak Spanish.”

“So he just ignored you? That’s so rude,” he said, her face grimacing, “I’m sorry.”

You just shrugged and offered her a weak smile. There was that unspoken recognition from both of you; Franco had ignored you to flirt with the singer. She was everything you weren’t: beautiful, popular, confident. 

“Well, come hang with me and Alex. I’ll teach you how to make a tiktok,” she said.

You were surprised that her excuse hadn’t been an excuse at all—she actually wanted your company, unlike someone else. 

You went out to the pit lane to meet Alex. Fans were cheering from the sidelines. They were all screaming for Alex, of course, but a few yelled for Lily too. And one yelled for you. 

“YN! YN!” the girl yelled, Argentine flag in her grasp. Your head turned.  “YN! Can I get a picture with you?” she asked. 

You paused. “You want a picture with me?” 

She smiled. “Yes, if that’s okay.” You laughed, not mocking her, but just unsure to do with the absurdity of it all. 

“Of course,” you said, smiling for the camera. “I wasn’t trying to be rude,” you explained, “I’m just surprised you knew me.”

“Oh, we all know you. Everyone’s seen the videos of you and Franco. You all are so cute!” You knew what she meant—your friendship with him was endearing, you had to admit. But the reminder of him felt like a sharp dagger to the heart. Lily called you over, so you bid goodbye to the fan, an odd feeling settling in your chest. That could be unpacked later.

But later was sooner than you anticipated. You had a great time making videos with Lily and Alex, but they had gone to get lunch before qualifying, and you couldn’t find Franco anywhere. So you went to his driver’s room, and finding that even empty, you just gave up and stayed there. He had told you that his room was fair game to hide in if you ever felt overwhelmed, and you definitely did. Now that you were alone, all the emotions were rushing to the surface. 

So you opened your notebook to write.

I can’t believe Franco didn’t even introduce me to anyone this morning. I get it, I’m not like them. I’m not talented or famous or as beautiful as that girl is. God, she’s perfect. She’s everything a man could want. Why would Franco ever want someone like me? I’m just an anxious, dependent mess. I don’t blame him for flirting with her. I just wish he wouldn’t do it in front of me. 

You were spiraling, and soon enough tears came to your eyes. You tried to blink them away but it was futile. You felt like you were losing your best friend.

But, speak of the devil, he was at the door. 

“Oh, YN, I was looking for you,” he said absentmindedly as he walked in the room and fiddled with his helmet. “You left your phone in the garage, Lily has it.”

“Oh, shit,” you muttered. It seemed like you were developing a habit of losing things. You got up to meet Lily in the garage, making a mental note to stop at the bathroom to take a breather. You prayed that Franco wouldn't look at you, but today was your unlucky day, it seemed. As you walked out, he looked up and his eyes met yours, and you saw the concern dawn in his eyes. He moved to say something, but you just quickened your pace, and ignored him when you did hear him call after you. 

You found the nearest bathroom and broke down, allowing yourself to just cry it out for a few minutes. Your thoughts kept spiraling. You were ridiculous, you thought, breaking down over something so small. You were pathetic. No wonder he didn’t want you. Why would anyone? 

After a few minutes, you took a few deep breaths and steadied yourself and tried to make it look as if you hadn’t been crying. Qualifying would be starting soon. You quickly grabbed your phone from Lily, who thankfully didn’t say anything about your clearly post-sobbing session face, and you found a comfortable spot in the back of the garage to watch qualifying. 

He qualified 15th. Not great. Nothing to elicit a celebratory hug, though, God, you needed one right now. 

You were exhausted and wanted nothing more than to go back to the hotel and sleep away the weariness. So that’s what you did, skillfully avoiding Franco’s eye scanning the paddock for you.

When you got back to the hotel, you could barely change into your pajamas and get in the bed. You felt heavy like a block of lead. You checked your phone before bed, seeing that Franco had taken a photo with the musicians and posted it to Instagram. 

It was taken after you left, of course. As if you were never there at all.

The sight brought another wave of tears. You sighed in frustration and cried until the weight of it all lulled you to sleep.

The next morning, you didn’t even want to go to the grand prix. As you got up and tidied where you had gotten back and just thrown things around last night, you contemplated what to do.

On one hand, you wanted to support Franco even if you were upset. On the other hand, you thought you might burst into tears if you saw him again.

You just needed to write it out, and then you’d be able to face him. You grabbed your bag and fished around for your journal.

It was gone.

Shit.

Then you remembered, you had left it in his driver’s room yesterday. You groaned.

You checked your phone, intending to text him about it, only to find that he had already texted you last night while you were asleep. Just a simple, You okay? but you hadn’t answered. 

Frantic, you called him. He answered immediately. 

“Hey YN, you—”

“Have you seen my journal?”

“What?”

“My journal. I accidentally left it in your driver’s room yesterday.”

“No? I don’t remember seeing it.”

“Shit…” you whispered. Tears pricked in your eyes yet again. 

“I’m on my way to the track, I’ll check when I get there and ask the team about it,” he assured. “We’ll find it.”

“Thanks,” you said, your voice dry. 

“Look, are you okay? You just disappeared yesterday—”

“I’m fine,” you lied. He knew you were lying. 

“YN, talk to me. Please.” His voice was soft with genuine concern, but it pissed you off. There was no way he could know he was the cause of your upset if you didn’t tell him. But you just couldn’t. Not now, at least.

“Can I just meet you at your driver’s room to look for it?”

He sighed. “Yeah. I’ll be there in ten.” You hung up the call.

You had calmed yourself down a bit before you reached the track, but it was no use when you met Franco at his room and found it empty. The desk where you had set yesterday to write looked strangely devoid of life. 

You all wordlessly continued to look for a while, and even went around asking the Williams employees about it, but it was no use. It was gone. 

When you returned back to the room, defeated, you couldn’t help but cry. 

For fear of embarrassment, you'd never cried in front of Franco before, but you didn’t even have the capacity to try and hide it anymore. At first he looked startled, like he didn’t know what to do. But as you crumpled onto the small couch and he saw your body wracked with sobs, he knew all he could do was hold you.

So that’s what he did. 

His touch was warm and comforting, but it just made you weep all the more. He just held you tighter, and you were enveloped in the smell of his cologne. “It’s okay,” he whispered gently to you, “I’m here.”

When the sobs finally left you, he looked in your tear-stained eyes and asked, “Will you talk to me?”

You had never wanted to do anything less. But you knew that these were the moments that counted. Your journal had become a crutch rather than a tool—now was the time to actually do the hard work to get better. 

You began, “It’s stupid—” 

“I want to know anyway,” he assured.

You paused, then resumed, “It just really hurt me yesterday when you didn’t introduce me to anyone.”

He made a confused face at you. “I didn’t?” 

“No, Franco, you didn’t,” you said, your tone getting angrier. “You were too busy flirting with that singer to notice that I was sitting there alone.”

“She asked about you, though. I told her you were just a friend.”

Ouch. Just a friend. 

“I thought I was your best friend.”

“You are,” he assured, but it felt hollow. 

“It doesn’t feel like it when Lily has to come rescue me from being ignored all day.”

“I’m sorry, YN. I didn’t even realize it, I was just caught up in the conversation. Why didn’t you say anything?” 

“Because I just felt like an intruder. I mean… I’m not a famous musician or anyone important in Formula 1. I’m not from Argentina, I don’t speak Spanish—”

He cut you off, “So? And you know my mother would adopt you in a heartbeat.”

You were unamused by his attempt at banter. “So, it just hurts because I don’t belong here. And when you ignore me, I’m just alone.”

He paused. “YN, I’m so sorry.”

You didn’t know what to say.

He continued, “But for the record, I was not flirting with anyone. You know the main reason I spend time with all these people is for the brand, right?”

You looked confused. “The brand? Since when do you care about your brand?” Franco was known for being impossible to media train. Why was he suddenly so concerned with his public reputation?

Even though you were alone in his driver’s room, he looked over his shoulder, listening out for any approaching footsteps. But you all were truly alone in the quiet morning at the paddock. “You have to promise to keep it quiet,” he said.

“I promise,” you whispered.

He leaned in closer. “There’s a chance, a very small chance, but a chance…that I could get a contract with Redbull next year.”

Your eyes widened. He continued, “Checo has been driving so bad that they want him out. But he brings in a lot of money and it’ll cost a lot to break my Williams contract. I need to show them that I can have just as much backing in Argentina as Checo has in Mexico.”

You were practically speechless. “Oh my God, Franco, that’s…”

But Franco was more worried about you. “The people are all nice enough, but I’d prefer your company over theirs any day. You’re still my best friend.”

The tears that threatened to fall now were happy ones, from pride in your best friend and the love you felt for him. 

You confessed, “I hope you get it. But I’m so scared that I’ll be left behind and forgotten.”

He reached to hold you again and you let him. “Never,” he said, “never. You’ve been here since the beginning, you’re not getting rid of me any time soon.”

You both broke the embrace and he wiped a tear from your cheek. The soft touch sent shivers down your spine.

“Thank you,” you said. 

He smiled at you. “No, thank you for opening up to me. You ready for the race today?”

You nodded, “Always.”

He didn’t score any points, but the points weren’t the point anymore. Your conversation earlier had made you feel so close to him in a way you never had before. You watched the screens in the garage with a religious reverence, looking into his eyes when the camera switched to face him. They were focused, like the only things in the world were him, the car, and the track ahead. And for you, that was all there was in the world, too.

Your celebration after the race was more subdued, but nonetheless supportive. As he walked to the media tent, you all glanced at each other and you mouthed to him proud of you. He winked back.

You all had fallen into a familiar routine of dinner together and winding down in his hotel room, and tonight was no different. Again you all found yourselves in the same positions: him, cross legged on the bed, and you in the chair near him. 

The atmosphere was a bit tense though. Being back at the hotel, you couldn’t help but remember the horrible morning, and what you had lost—your journal. Who would have thrown away a journal from his driver's room? You had asked around the paddock again after the race and no one had seen it.

Or maybe it hadn’t been thrown away. Maybe someone took it.

Your mind wandered back to the last few conversations with Franco: your “stolen” lipstick, his asking to read the journal…

No. He wouldn’t. That’d cross a line.

But weren’t the contents of the journal crossing a line themselves?

Franco noticed how you’d gone quieter since you got home from the paddock. You all were both exhausted.

“What’s on your mind?” he asked, lazily tracing circles in the comforter.

You responded with your own question. “Franco, will you be honest with me?”

He looked up at you, his face hardened with concern. “Of course.” He looked nervous. 

“Do you have my journal?”

He shifted his gaze away from you. “No,” he said, simple as that. 

“Franco,” you began, “listen to me. I’m not mad, but you understand how this looks, right? I know we joke about this kind of stuff a lot, but you asked to read it and then it suddenly disappears after I left it in your driver’s room.”

“I didn’t even go back to the room after you left,” he said.

“Maybe not. But you got there this morning before I did. And now it’s gone.”

He paused. “You really think I’d steal your diary?”

The situation had become too tense for your liking. “I’m not trying to accuse you of anything,” you explained, “and I promise, I’m not mad. I just… there’s some things in there that are too personal for me to share with anyone, even you.”

“YN, I don’t have it.”

“Okay. I’m just saying, if you happen to find it, please promise me that you won’t read it. Please,” you quite literally begged. 

“I wouldn’t do that to you, YN. You know I was joking when I asked to read it, right?”

He wasn’t joking. Both of you knew that. And both of you knew that he had taken the diary.

You hoped that he would understand what you asked and respect your wishes. In a few days he’d text you saying that a Williams employee had randomly found it—another lie—and he would give it back to you, unread. And your friendship would go on like nothing had ever happened.

But what if it didn’t? What if he read every filthy word you had written about him?

You thought it through over and over later that night, back in your own room but unable to sleep. So you made a plan.

You and Franco, thankfully, would be on the same flight to Brazil. When you landed and went to the hotel, you’d swap out your room keys and go to his room while he did his media duties. Then, you’d find the journal in his room and take it back.

A few problems with the plan. One, It gave him the first 3 days of the week to read it, and two, it was fucking unhinged of you to go through your best friend’s stuff. 

You rolled over and angrily groaned into the pillow. 

Brazil was going to be an interesting time. 

Well, interesting was the understatement of the century.

It began on the flight, a flight that was way too fucking long. Thankfully, Franco had arranged for you to take this one together, so at least you had his company. 

You could never sleep on planes, they were too loud and uncomfortable. Franco usually did, but today it seemed he couldn’t; he bounced his legs and darted his eyes around the plane.

“Nervous?” you asked.

“Very,” he answered honestly. “There’s just so much going on this weekend.”

“I know,” you said reassuringly rather than condescendingly. “You really should try to get some rest though. It’s been a long few weeks for you.”

“I can’t. I’m too wired up.”

You felt an unexpected boldness come over you. “Close your eyes,” you directed, “and take a few deep breaths. Stay still.” 

He obeyed, and you grabbed his hand from the armrest between you and held it in yours. You felt him tense at the unexpected touch, but you slowly began to trace circles into his palm with your thumb, and he relaxed into it. With his own boldness, he placed his head on your shoulder and exhaled. Within minutes, he was fast asleep. You knew from experience that he’d be asleep for the rest of the flight, so you let yourself get comfortable with the familiar weight of your sleeping best friend pressing into your side.

Slivers of sunlight from the window traced the soft edges of his sleeping form. Even when unconscious, he was beautiful. If you truly wanted to, you could have turned ever so slightly and kissed his forehead without waking him. And God, you truly wanted to.

So you did, gently pressing your lips to the smooth surface of his skin. Maybe this was crossing a line, but it seemed like, at this point, all lines had been crossed between you two.

His presence calmed you enough that you were able to fall asleep, too. When you woke a few hours later, he was still fast asleep by your side, and you savored the moment.

But deep down you wondered how long this would last. You were head over heels in love with him. He was… well, you didn’t know how he felt. But he was your best friend in the entire world. He knew almost everything there was to know about you. 

He had four races left in F1. Four races until you would go back to your day to day lives; still intertwined, but not this close. And if he did get the seat, that you so desperately wanted for him? He’d be gone even more than he already was. You couldn’t follow him around the world forever. He’d go from city to city, race to race, club to club, woman to woman.

You felt your stomach drop at the thought of him with another woman. You remembered the singer in Austin, how he said he wasn’t flirting with her, it was for the brand, whatever excuse he could come up with. You guessed it was true. Or maybe he meant that it didn’t really mean anything to him. Just playing up that side of him that the media absolutely loved. His Argentine charm was undeniable. 

Okay, then maybe it was true. Everyone knew Franco was a flirt, you especially. But it made it so much harder to determine, then, what was truly meaningful to him and what wasn’t. 

But your friendship meant something to him, right? He had asked you to come along to all his races. He made time for you in the midst of the paddock’s chaos. You had slept in the same bed. He held you when you cried. And now, he slept peacefully on your shoulder, hands still intertwined. How could that not mean something?

You didn’t want your fears of the future to make you miss out on the present. At some point you’d have to open up to him. But that moment wasn’t right now. 

And you were determined that you’d be the one in control, so when you landed and made it to the hotel, you enacted your plan you’d concocted earlier. When the receptionist handed you the keys, you waited until Franco was fiddling with your luggage to switch out two, making sure to hand him the correct key. He would never need to know that the other key in the little paper pocket was the key to your room, and if he did, he’d just assume there was an issue. A natural cover.

Okay, maybe you were smart and smooth with it. 

You knew you wouldn’t see much of Franco in Brazil. With stakes this high, he had an overwhelming amount of team meetings and media duties. Still, as usual, you all made your way to the paddock together. 

The energy was electric—in good ways and bad. Good: there were so many Argentine fans that you often found yourself questioning what country you were in. The amount of support was unreal. And each one of them were proud of Franco—but not as proud as you were.

Bad: Literally everything else.

But that was yet to come. You entered the paddock to a flurry of camera shots and a cacophony of voices yelling for Franco. 

Usually you liked to stay out of the shot of cameras, but it was impossible here. Franco did his best to draw their attention towards him and away from you, but it was overwhelming nonetheless.

As you all passed a group of fans, one in particular caught your eye. She was holding out two bracelets. “Franco, YN!” she called out. 

You both stopped to speak to her. “I made you all bracelets,” she said, handing one to you and the other to Franco. You read the beads: it had Franco’s name, number, and blue hearts. You smiled at the adorable gesture. 

“Oh,” Franco said, looking at you, “This one has your name on it. Let’s switch.”

As he moved his hand to do so, the fan said, “No, they’re supposed to be like that. They’re friendship bracelets for you all!”

“Thank you,” you said, unsure if the warmth of your cheeks was a soft blush forming or from the chaos around you. The fan had wanted you to wear each other’s names.

You kept walking, but when you were out of eyeshot, you offered to switch the bracelets around again, thinking the implication was a little too much for him. He refused, keeping your name around his wrist.

He went off to wherever he needed to be, and you went to William’s hospitality to find Lily, but unfortunately, she wasn’t in Brazil at all.

Maybe, in hindsight, what you did next was a terrible decision. But you did it anyway. 

You made your way to Franco’s drivers room for some privacy and pulled up your social media, looking to see what people were saying about him. 

Ever since he had confided about his potential for a seat next year, you had also cared about his brand, too. And, officially or unofficially, you were a part of that. Like Lily had told you, people were speculating. You just hoped that what she said about the people loving you was true. 

Fortunately, it was. 

Franco and YN being obliviously in love with each other; a thread

You tapped on the post, reading your way through the comments.

Does YN know that she’s living our dream?

Oh to be YN, being loved by Franco like that.

Need someone to look at me the way YN and Franco look at each other.

Don’t get me wrong, I absolutely love YN, but Franco should be with an Argentine girl. They’d be a power couple. 

The comment soured your mood. You kept reading anyway.

Guys, I met YN in Austin and she was so sweet! Our girl is chronically offline because she was so surprised that I even knew who she was and like, girl, WHAT DO YOU MEAN? WE ARE ALL ROOTING FOR YOU!!

You smiled, the memory of the girl in Austin coming back to your mind. 

I love how we have all collectively decided to adopt YN as the newest wag even though her and Franco aren’t even dating 

You laughed to yourself, remembering how Lily had mistaken you for a wag when you first talked. Maybe that was the reason why.

You read the replies: 

To be fair, you don’t look at someone like that unless you LOVE LOVE them

Does anyone else think this is weird tho? I mean, they're just friends but the entire internet wants them to get together, must make things so awkward…

Honestly I’m glad they’re not together because if my bf flirted with other women the way Franco flirts with reporters, I’d throw the whole man away

You snorted. Of course, these random people on the internet didn’t know you, but they seemed to get inside your head a little too much for comfort. Or maybe you just weren’t as good at hiding your emotions as you always thought you were. 

Speaking of hiding your emotions, you had a job to do. Checking your clock, you knew that Franco was going to be busy for the next 3 hours before you all had planned to meet up again. He had a very important meeting with Christian Horner. Your heart skipped a beat and you said a silent prayer for your friend.

But now, you have a mission. You were going to get your journal back.

It would have been an easy task, if not for the fans. Thankfully you got out and into an uber undetected, but upon opening the door to his room, you cursed them in your head.

Gifts were everywhere. His team must have been gathering them all week, and Franco clearly wasn’t organizing them. 

You thought 3 hours would be more than enough to leave, find your journal, return it to your room, and get back to the paddock unnoticed. Maybe, you thought wrong. This was going to be a long 3 hours. 

As you searched, back at the paddock, Franco sat in the meeting that would decide the course of the rest of his life. His leg bounced uncontrollably, his mouth was dry, and he felt like he was going to throw up his breakfast. 

He wished you were here. Your presence always calmed him in moments like these; he had no idea where you were, and the intimidating presence of Christian Horner across the table did nothing to ease his nerves. 

“I’ve got to admit,” Horner said, “he’s exceeded everyone’s expectations. But a couple good races doesn’t tell us much.”

Franco’s manager replied, “Of course, we understand. But he’s got more than enough of a fanbase to rival any driver. I mean, just look outside and it’s a sea of Argentine flags!”

“Fans are good, but does that translate to sponsors? I mean, you’ve got to compete with Disney here. Not every driver can bring in that level of support.”

“We’ve gotten some strong sponsors recently, and a lot more in the works currently. Franco’s future is promising.”

“What about his PR? Any disasters there?” Horner laughed.  

Franco’s manager, however, did not. “He’s good. The fans love him, and he knows when to shut up.”

Franco suppressed a laugh. Anyone who had been around him for more than 5 minutes knew that he was a PR nightmare. And it seemed Horner knew it too.

“Now, that’s not what I’ve heard,” he said. “I’ve seen the videos. You strike the balance well for the most part, but you can’t be telling people not to buy Redbull merch.” They all laughed. “And you can’t be bringing your girlfriend to every race.”

Franco’s manager began to speak, but not before Franco cut her off. “My girlfriend?” 

“Yeah, YN isn’t it? As far as I’ve seen, the fans like her, but if she’s constantly around they’ll get fatigued. Again, it’s a delicate balance.”

“YN isn’t my girlfriend.” The sentence felt…odd, as Franco said it with a matter of fact tone.

“Oh, even better. We can get you with an Argentinian woman, then. Maximize that market.”

“A PR relationship? Those are real?” Franco questioned, and Horner laughed, as if Franco was the dumbest one in the room, and he certainly felt like it. 

“Not really. Just be seen a few times, like some posts, maybe go to events together if you wanna really get serious about it. Generate talk, you know.”

“Isn’t that what happens with YN now anyway? I mean, everyone already thinks we’re dating.”

“Yeah, but she’s nobody. No offense,” Horner said, as if his comment held no weight. “But with a celebrity or model? That really gets people talking. A little controversy is good.”

Franco felt sick to his stomach. She’s nobody. But she was somebody, to him. She was his best friend. 

“Look, kid,” Horner began, “I agree that you’ve got promise, but it’s too early to make any decisions right now. Show us what you’ve got in these last few races, and maybe we can work something out.”

Everyone rose to exchange polite goodbyes and handshakes. Franco felt like he was in a totally different plane of existence.

His manager came over to him afterwards. “You did well, Franco. We’ll just do as he said—keep focused, get results, and keep your head down. Seriously, watch it with the media.”

Franco nodded absentmindedly, but his manager wasn’t happy with that response. “What’s wrong?” she asked. 

Franco began, “Look, a PR relationship, seriously? And he’s telling me I can’t have my best friend in the paddock?”

“I think YN will survive if she doesn’t come to every single race.”

“But I want her here with me. I don’t want to hurt her.” He remembered Austin, holding you while you cried, afraid that he’d leave you behind. And here push had come to shove. 

His manager looked at him, incredulous. “Seriously, Franco, this is what you're focused on? You have a shot at a seat with Redbull, and you’re more focused on not hurting YN’s feelings? How do you expect to achieve this with that attitude?” 

Franco was upset now. “Don’t say that. Even Horner said I’ve been exceeding expectations.”

“I know you have, and we’re all proud of you. But you need to stay focused. Leave the women alone.”

“YN is not just a random woman, she’s my best friend.”

His manager’s frustration was growing by the second. “I know Franco. I know you love her, we all love her. But she is not your priority right now. Your future is, okay?” 

Hearing those words felt like a rollercoaster, complete with the euphoric highs and stomach churning lows. I know you love her—well, it was true, you were his best friend. But what kind of love? He didn’t know, and besides, the low—she is not your priority right now—he didn’t have the time or space to find out. 

He had a job to do.

All the while, you also had a job to do, but you were failing spectacularly. You had searched every square inch of that fucking room. You looked in every nook and cranny, every pocket and pouch, under the covers and even in the bathroom. Your journal wasn’t there. 

There was no way Franco was this good at hiding anything (other than emotions, maybe). You now had to entertain the possibility that you had been wrong all along.

Maybe he didn’t have the journal. Maybe you had just accused him of lying and shown that you don’t really trust your best friend. 

You let out a frustrated groan as you put everything back in place. You couldn’t believe it. 

If he didn’t have the journal, then where was it?

It was a question you’d have to answer later, because right now you were racing to reconfigure his room and get back to the paddock before anyone noticed that you were gone. 

You barely made it in time, arriving at the Williams garage with your body in fight or flight mode. You spotted Franco instantly.

“YN! There you are,” he said. “I thought I lost you.”

“Oh yeah, I was with some fans.” The lie just slipped out without you having to think about it. You’d never done that before—who were you becoming?

Franco looked confused. “You were? Since when do you willingly leave the paddock?” he questioned, clearly joking.

“Since I have to help the brand,” you smiled. “By the way, how did the meeting go?”

He just replied, “Good.” 

Franco was never a man of few words, so his hesitancy to speak was a red flag.

“Top secret?” you asked, thankfully giving him an out.

“Yeah, it’s… complicated.” 

“Well, you know I’m always here rooting for you,” you said, reaching out to gently squeeze his hand. The gesture sent shivers down your spine.

Seriously, who were you becoming?

The next day didn’t make the situation any easier. The morning sprint had granted Franco another 12th place finish—no points, but still respectable. At least, it was to you. You could tell that he wasn’t happy. You knew that he pushed himself too hard, because how else would he be able to achieve, but it still broke your heart. You assumed that the meeting yesterday hadn’t been the greatest, and you wished that Franco would talk to you about it. But he didn’t. That was okay, you’d done the same to him before. You just wanted to be there to support him, even if it meant being on the sidelines, in the dark both physically and metaphorically.

And the darkness was looming over Interlagos. The forecast was horrific. The reality was even more horrific. 

As the rain poured down in sheets, you silently said a prayer for all the poor souls with General Admission tickets who must be swimming right now. You were nice and dry under the paddock, thankfully, but outside it was practically a monsoon.

Everyone knew qualifying would get postponed, it was just a matter of time until a final decision would be made. The atmosphere was tense—a championship battle loomed in the distance between Max and Lando, and Franco would be driving for his life. 

But as the hours passed and the rain continued, the energy around the paddock loosened up. You saw Lando and Oscar at the gates waving to fans, George jumping in puddles, Ollie taking naps against the warm tires. 

So, of course, Franco would enjoy his time too.

His manager stood in the back corner of the garage, talking with one of the media interns. Looking at her, Franco felt his frustration return. He had never been the stubborn type. But since making it to Formula 1, he had been told what to do left and right. Go here, say this, don’t do that. It pissed him off. 

He was going to do what he wanted to, at least this once. 

Of course, you were oblivious to all of this. You didn’t know what to make of it when he walked onto the pit lane, exposing himself to the elements. Within seconds his fluffy curls were flattened and he would be dripping in rainwater when he came back into the garage. 

“YN!” he called into the garage. “Come dance with me!” 

You looked up from your phone, and the garage around you was still buzzing, but you could feel everyone’s necks craning to listen and look upon whatever antics Franco was up to.

You just laughed and shook your head. You weren’t getting out in that mess.

But you didn’t have a choice. Franco marched his way up to the garage and yanked you out. 

You yelped his name playfully as he dragged you to the middle of the pitlane and put his arms around your waist. 

“What are you doing?” you asked him through your widening smile.

“Dancing. Having fun,” he answered. His arms stayed around your waist, too close to be platonic.

You turned to the crowd of fans in the grandstand in the distance. “We have an audience. Is this good for the brand?” 

It would seem ‘the brand’ was becoming a running bit, until Franco shut it down. “Fuck the brand. Dance with me.”

He pulled you closer, the only thing separating you being the layers of clothes that were thinning with the rain. He spun you and you all danced back and forth, giggling when you splashed in the  puddles swiftly gathering around you. 

And then he dipped you. The world felt like it stopped for a moment. You were suspended in air, an electric warmth between you and your best friend, the only two people in the world.

He brought you back up and you both stopped. Your eyes met for what must have only been a split second. It was like all at once, all the love you had for him flooded your heart, stronger than the unrelenting rain. 

Everything about him was beautiful. His arms wrapped around your waist, his eyes now looking at your lips—

He was going to kiss you.

That is, until his manager yelled at you both from inside the garage. “Franco! Quit fucking around and get in here!”

The moment was ruined.

You both sheepishly returned to the garage. Your anxiety had faded in that perfect moment with him, but had now returned with a vengeance upon hearing the frustration of his manager. Luckily, everyone else in the garage seemed to not care. But Franco looked like a kid getting called to the principal’s office at school.

Before you even got back in the garage, you turned to him and said, “Franco, I’m sorry for getting you in trouble, I—”

He cut you off. “You didn’t get me in trouble,” he joked, “I got myself in trouble. Don’t worry about it. You can shower in my driver’s room, I should have a spare sweater in there. I’ll try to meet you there.”

You nodded as you went your separate ways.

You did as Franco said, having a quick shower and doing your best to dry your hair in his driver’s room. You grabbed the spare Williams quarter zip he had and slid it on, relishing in the warmth and the smell of his cologne. You felt safe here, quiet and alone, knowing that he’d come meet you when he could. You scrolled on your phone to pass the time.

Of course, it had only been minutes and you all had already gone viral.  

You tapped on the post of a gossip page.

Williams driver Franco Colapinto and friend YN seen in Interlagos having a sweet moment dancing in the rain! Although the pair are quoted calling each other just friends, fans continue to speculate about the true nature of their relationship. What do you think? Sound off below!

You scrolled to the comments.

Might as well just make out with her in parc ferme smh

Why are they actually the main characters of a rom com

Sooooooo when is he proposing

YN the woman that you are. I’d ask what we are after being held like that

You smiled. Maybe the internet was starting to grow on you. 

Back in the paddock, Franco was soaked to the bone, shivering, and being scolded by his manager.

“I told you to keep a low profile. What was that stunt?”

“I was just having fun—”

“I know. That’s the problem. You are not here to have fun. You are here to compete.”

“Having fun doesn’t impact my ability to drive,” he said, his voice sharp with anger. “Look, I get that you want what is best for me. But I’m not stupid. Fans love this kind of stuff, they eat it up. And I’m improving every day with my driving. Just let me do what I do best.”

“And you’re doing this purely for the fans?” she asked. They both knew the answer. Franco was silent. She continued, “Franco, she’ll be here at the end of the season no matter what. But this opportunity won't if you don’t focus. You’re distracted.”

“This will be good publicity. The fans like it when I’m flirty.”

“You’re not here to be flirty. You’re here to drive,” she said with a forceful and final tone. She sighed. “The FIA just announced that quali is postponed until tomorrow morning. Go back to the hotel, get some rest, and come back tomorrow ready to perform, okay?”

“Okay,” he agreed. 

When he finally made it back to his driver’s room, he found you asleep on the small couch. He thought his heart would burst.

Quietly, he took a shower and changed into dry clothes. He sat down and just watched your sleeping frame, taking in how beautiful you were.

But you couldn’t stay here all night. He woke you up by gently brushing your hair out of your face, and you stirred at his touch.

“YN,” he whispered. “Quali is postponed. Time to go.” You sleepily rose and followed him out of the paddock, only fully waking up on the Uber ride back to the hotel.

The drive was quiet, but peaceful. It was dark out, and the rain scattered the light from the street lamps of Sao Paulo. Franco looked out the window, contemplative. It was a side of him you'd never seen before.

You placed your hand in the middle between you two, and wordlessly, he held it in his own.

It was unspoken, this new…thing, between you two. You both knew that something had fundamentally changed. It was a question of who would crack first. 

Franco knew, though, that his manager was right. He needed to focus. He needed to deliver. And you’d be here at the end.

But when he laid in his bed alone later that night, he couldn’t rest. All he could think about was that moment you both had felt, and his eyes that had focused on the soft skin of your lips. How badly he had wanted you in that moment. 

A line had been crossed, yes, but that wasn’t the only one. 

In his backpack, there had been a weight that had hung over him the past few days. A metaphorical one. He had kept it on his person at all times for safekeeping, not wanting to risk anyone finding out what he’d done.

He told himself he wouldn’t do it. But he needed more of you that he couldn’t have—not now, at least. 

But he could have this, right now.

So he sat up in bed, grabbing the small leather diary from the bag, and opened the first page.  

[onlyangel4]

healing a heart i didn't break. LH44. MV1. SMAU. part two.

cheater! lewis hamilton x reader. max verstappen x reader.

when your boyfriend of three years fumbles, his rival is there to put the pieces of your heart back together bit by bit.

warnings: 14 year age gap with lewis. cursing. cheating. super super angsty.

author's note: this is still building up the angst the proper max fluff will be next. for context reader and lewis broke up eight weeks before the austin gp.

part one // part three

faceclaim: camilla morrone

f1wags

liked by user12, f1fan22, user 45 and 12,382 others

f1wags: y/n y/ln and alexandra saint mleux pictured on a dog walk out near y/n's childhood home. this is the first time y/n has been pictured in a week following the revelation that lewis hamilton had been cheating on her with y/exbff. no one knows how long they have been cheating but sources seem to think it did not start last weekend and has actually been going on longer. we hope that y/n is okay.

view all 439 comments

user12: oh how i would love to hear the goss

user45: alex looked angry in some of the other pictures. i just know y/n is sitting on business

f1fan22: alex flying out to see her is true friendship y/exbff could never.

y/ninsta

liked by maxverstappen, alexandrasaintmleux, charlesleclerc and 680,928 others

y/ninsta: i'll be okay. i've got my girl.

tagged alexandrasaintmleux

view all 9,720 comments

alexandrasaintmleux: my love, i am honestly amazed how strong you have been the past three weeks. i wish to be half the woman that you are.

y/ninsta: i would not have been this strong without you and charles alex. i love you both, thank you for taking me in before i found my new place.

y/nfan: lewis cheated on her with her best friend and took the house and roscoe (WHO THEY BROUGHT WHEN THEY WERE TOGETHER) all y/n got was her husky lilo and a broken heart. I HATE MEN

charlesleclerc: i took this photo

y/ninsta: yes charles you did. well done

user37: y/n is gentle parenting charles omg

maxverstappen: hope you have been okay y/n, been thinking of you recently, missing you around the paddock.

liked by y/ninsta

user17: omg even max in on her side

f1wags

liked by f1fan43, user48, y/nlover and 34,589 others

f1wags: y/n is in her revenge dress era. the ex wag has arrived at the austin gp. she came in and watched fp1 and fp2 with charles and alex and is in the ferrari garage. we here at f1wags are so happy to see her back in the paddock. also lewis and the other girl have arrived but i don't want to post about that.

view all 8,183 comments

y/nlover: what a serve

f1fan43: THE OTHER GIRL even wag pages hate y/exbff

user48: lewis hamilton found screaming, crying, throwing up in the merc garage

user21: did you guys see max. he saw y/n walk in he stopped what he was doing jogged over to her and they had like a proper long conversation.

f1updates

liked by hamiltonupdates, f1fan, user23 and 34,5672 others

f1updates: a story in two pictures.

picture one: lewis and y/n were photographed arguing behind the mercedes motorhome. y/exbff was also there. the video shows them talking to y/n and then y/n running off crying.

picture two: a shaky video captures the moment max watched y/n run off crying and he jogged after her. she said something to him and then he pulled her into a hug while she sobbed on his shoulder. he led her inside but when she pulled away from the hug max's white shirt was almost see through. y/n is obviously going through it. we are left wondering what lewis and y/exbff told her.

view all 7,625 comments

f1fan: oh thank god for max, she looked so lost. looking around for someone to help her while paparazzi started calling her name when she was fucking sobbing.

hamiltonupdates: i am really questioning lewis rn

user23: y/n would not have gone to talk to him about just anything. this has to be big.

y/exbff

liked by lewishamilton, friendone, friendtwo and 342,837 others

y/exbff: sixteen weeks ago we made what we thought was a massive mistake that we vowed to never talk about but eight weeks ago we discovered it was the best thing ever to happen to us. baby coming march next year,

comments for this post have been disabled

taglist: @sinofwriting @toldyouitwasamelodrama @formulaal

@minkyungseokie @shrbehndwn @gr1mes-cc @nichmeddar

@liberty-barnes

[giuseppe-yuki]

pr videos

logan sargeant x hawk shapeshifter!reader

w.c.: 1.2k

warnings: a few curse words, one suggestive innuendo

part of my shapeshifting!reader series

summary: you join logan while he is doing his pr videos for williams

picture credits from pinterest :)

from your perch on the VCARB building, you could see your boyfriend on the roof of the williams building, filming a pr video. with your acute vision that allowed you to see over half a mile away, you could see the strands of his blonde hair waving in the wind, the way the sleeves of his williams team kit stretched over his arm muscles, the shine of his blue-green eyes in the sun, and even the light stubble on his chin. oh, and alex was there too, but why would you look at him when your perfect boyfriend was standing right there? 

you technically weren’t supposed to be sitting on a pipe next to a big ass poster of daniel riccardo’s face on the VCARB roof, but you were getting a little hungry. less than an hour ago, logan had left you in the hotel room, explaining that him and alex were filming pr videos all day and didn’t want you to be waiting in the hot sun. it didn’t hurt spying a little bit on them. besides, you were blending in, because in austin, texas there was always a shit ton of hawks for some reason. 

shaking yourself out of your logan-induced trance, you peer over at alex and see him holding a- piece of tomato? in logan’s hands are some tongs and a metal spatula, making you realize he is currently flipping burgers in front of a smoking grill. great, you think, williams has your boyfriend playing the typical american again. before you can continue your line of thought, your stomach grumbles, so you immediately spread your wings and jump off the building. there’s no harm in capitalizing off of logan’s americanness, you suppose.

gliding smoothly towards the williams roof, you hear logan talking fighting for his life trying to defend himself.

“mate, look at my burger compared to yours! its way better. look at the cheese, the lettuce, the tomato, the juicy meat! your patty is literally burnt and you don’t even have lettuce in your burger! that’s a literal crime.”

“you don’t even have lettuce in your burger” alex mocks. “whatever logan, you’re so american!” 

you can tell the banter between them is playful, both of them shooting pointed remarks at each other as the timer countes down. they're filming an alex vs logan burger challenge, you speculate. 

when you see your chance, you fly at full speed towards the pair, and snatch logan’s burger right off of his plate. clutching the burger in your claws, you circle back and plant yourself on an expensive-looking linen sofa. you give the burger a few experimental pecks. perfectly cooked, and honestly, really good. 

the camerawoman, several members of the williams crew, and both alex and logan’s pr managers all stare at you from behind the camera in surprise, mouths open. alex lets out a sound of pure shock, but his eyes show a little bit of recognition. perhaps logan has mentioned you to alex before? logan, however, looks at you with a small smile and a singular eyebrow raised. 

“mate,” alex starts, “is that your g-” 

logan immediately cuts him off. 

“wow, that was so weird! my burger looked so much better than yours, a real-life american hawk swooped in just to try it.” 

as if coming to her senses, the camerawoman steps in to redirect the focus of the video. “we are totally keeping that in. that was so fucking cool.” she exclaims. she turns around to her camera, and fiddles with it for a little bit before turning back towards you, logan and alex. “by the way, note to the video editor, logan totally won that one. the hawk really sealed the deal.”

“baby there is no way you just did that,” logan says, closing the hotel room door. 

you were lying in a cocoon of sheets with on the giant bed, having flew back to your balcony suite a couple hours ago. 

he takes off his shoes before continuing, “after you flew away, i had to spend over half an hour explaining to the williams crew members that no, i did not somehow summon you using my americanness and burger cooking powers, then fifteen minutes conversing with alex about planning a hangout with him and his girlfriend- who by the way is a cockatiel shapeshifter- and then fourty-five minutes leaving the paddock because i was stopped every two seconds by yet another person who wanted to ask if a hawk did actually steal my burger.” 

you can’t help but to start laughing. “awe i’m sorry logan, i was just a little hungry and i wanted to go see you!” you say in between giggles.

logan leaps onto the bed on top of you and wraps you into a warm hug. “fine, i forgive you. only because i love you,” he says earnestly. he pauses before continuing, “and also because you gave me a great truth to tell for two truths and a lie,” prompting you to burst into laughter again. he puts a well-placed kiss on your cheek. “so what do you want to do next?”

you look into his eyes, a few inches away from yours, and whispers into his ear. “i’m feeling… a little hungry.” 

logan peels himself off of you, and walks towards the hotel room phone.

“i know exactly who to call.” 

later, you find yourself sat in front of the most mouthwatering, scrumdiddlyumptious layout of texas barbeque, coleslaw, and cornbread. god, you loved logan so much. 

the next day, you find yourself in a similar position as the day before. this time, you are perched on a tree on the edge of a beautiful lake. you watch in amusement as logan and alex struggle to put bait on the hook of their fishing rods. logan seemed to have a little bit more luck spearing the worm onto the end of his fishing rod. 

“this is so rigged.” you hear alex complain to the gopro set up in front of him. “logan clearly got a bigger worm than me so its easier to put on and plus, he probably has ages of experience from fishing when he was younger!” 

it was yet another pr video day, but this time williams had them out in the middle of a lake- fishing for content. ‘don’t come back until you caught a fish,’ you had heard the team member jokingly say to the williams drivers as they launched off the dock. currently, it seemed as if alex and your boyfriend were taking his words seriously.

thirty minutes later, both of them were still stuffed in bright red lifejackets sitting in the middle of the lake. it seemed the cameramen that were filming them from a separate boat were having more luck them them, as they had a few minnows swimming in a bucket compared to logan and alex’s zero. 

you swoop down from your tree branch and use your ability to see uncannily well to spot a big bass swimming below you. lighting quick, you snatch it up in your claws and fly toward the williams boat. 

this time, the cameramen see you before logan, and all point their cameras excitedly at you, no doubt getting some high quality content for their upcoming video. 

you drop the still-wriggling bass onto logan’s lap, and perch proudly at the tip of the boat. 

“why thank you birdy,” logan says to you, giving you a big smile. he turns to alex, fighting the urge not to laugh. “i guess i win this challenge yet again.” 

alex wears a smug smile back though. “i just had my birdy go catch me a fish too.” he says, pointing his nose in the air. as if right on cue, a gray and yellow cockatiel whips past you, and drops a mosquito fish in alex’s lap.

logan takes one look and bursts into laughter.

taglist: @ilivbullyingjeongin@ale-522@formula1-motogpfan@aceyalonso@my0hmary @mbappebby

[cheriladycl01]

Kinktober 28/10/2024 Max Verstappen - RolePlay

Plot: It happened one Halloween, and escalated in Austin and now you guys are here…

Warnings: Kinktober, SMUT, blowjob, fingering, role play, dressing up, etc 18+ Minors DNI

It started on Halloween when you’d both dressed up for a party that was being hosted by Lando, Max’s fellow race car driver and friend.

You were dressed as Poison Ivy as you’d had your hair died red for quiet some time and Max as your male counterpart decided to go as Bat Man, you’d say in the bathroom with him doing his makeup, making sure to smudge under his eyes and get the look perfect before spending time on yours.

You for sure were the best dressed couple at the party and many photos were taken that night. Not just for the public where it went on your stories or as reels on other peoples accounts who were at the party, but many photos were taken by Max on his phone from above you while you laid on the bed in that red dress your boobs all pushed up and looking amazing.

He had fucked you in that dress that night while he wore his whole Batman getup.

Mask and all.

And yes immediately you’d both drunk way to much that night and both have individually pushed it away as a fluke.

However the next time was on a themed birthday party where it was Daniels birthday which he’d themed to cowboys. You’d been having a laugh all night putting on a Texas accent which wasn’t as hard for you as it was for Max. When you got home he was whispering sweet nothings in your ear in a southern belle accent.

You were incredibly sober and so very turned on by him in his little cowboy hat that by the time Austin rolled around you were a gonner and you guys did it again against better judgement in his driver room.

Safe to say Sergio had some complains in the next Red Bull debrief.

So it became a thing that you guys liked dressing up and being other people. You didn’t know why but you just sort of fell into a routine.

One day you’d waited in his drivers room after FP1 in what was supposed to be typical grid girl and Max was in his driver suit. He ended up eating you out while still in his drivers suit and you were done for.

Now tonight was your anniversary, and you wanted to do something special. You guys had done lots but one thing you’d never done was Massage Therapist and you thought tonight would be the perfect time. You hired out the whole spa in your apartment building asking for nobody to be there as Max had been stressed with the championship recently and decided it might be better to have a private evening to help him.

“Where are we going” he asks as you grab his hand guiding him to the lift.

“Downstairs, to the spa” you smile and he groans shaking his head.

“Mmmm noooo i don’t wanna talk to people today” he sighs pulling you hand back.

“I rented it out. So it’s just for us. Anniversary gift!” You smile rubbing his arm.

“Wait what? Omg babe, you must hate me” he says putting his hand on his head in exhaustion.

“You forgot?” You ask.

“I’m so sorry, I barley even knew what race I was flying to last week” he sighs pulling you into a hug.

“It’s okay baby, I understand but I have a treat for you tonight come on” you smile and he nods. You take him all the way down into the spa area.

“Okay, let’s get you relaxed love” you smile.

You spend the first part of the evening swimming in the pool, going into the jacuzzi, then mixing between the rain room, sauna and steam room.

“Don’t think I’ve ever spent this much time relaxing in like the last 10 years. It feels … nice” he smiles looking over at you as he wraps the towel around his waist.

“Okay, now time for the main attraction” you grin and get him to follow you to the massage area.

“Mmmm now, Mr Verstappen is it?” You ask is a husky voice. And immediately his head snaps up to you a grin on his face before he takes on his role.

“Mmmm yes, I heard your the best masseuse in Monaco” he says.

“Okay, if you’d get on the bed for me. I can start” you say and immediately he’s on the bed, laying with his face in the little hole.

You pull the towel off of him and run the sheet up to cover his bare ass. You hands guide up from his hips to his shoulder working lightly on any kinks you can feels.

“Fuck” he moans. You smile, working down his muscular arms.

“How is that Mr Verstappen, am I doing a good job?” You ask and he groans again.

“An amazing job” he says and humps against the bed, with another groan.

“Is there anywhere else you’d like me to massage?” You ask hoping you leading him down the right line of phrases.

“Well there is this one area that I’m sort of struggling with right now!” He says and you stand next to him looking at him.

He rolls over covering himself with the white sheets provided and underneath you can see the tent from his large dick hard and sticking up.

“Mmm is this the affected area?” He says grabbing it through the sheets, a moan coming from his mouth as he thrusts up.

“Y-yes” he whimpers.

“Mmmm a tricky area but I guess I can see what I can do” you say softly. Bending down to kiss it.

“Ohhhhh very tense, can I get a closer look at the area?” You say hand teasing just above the sheet waiting to pull it off of him.

“Yea, god yes please” he says and that’s all you need to pull the sheet down and kiss the tip of his dick. Your mouth encloses around it, the sound of your wet mouth sucking around his dick your tongue feeling every ridge and vein that had cropped up since he’d hardened.

“Fuck yes” he moans looking down at you. You weren’t fully on the bed however one leg was up on the bar holding the feet of it together and you were using it as leverage to get yourself a little higher.

“Mmmm I think we’re almost there” you say just before kitten licking his tip. Your hands come down to the parts that your mouth can’t reach and work in tandem with one another.

“One of the best clients I’ve ever had, making it so easy for me” you say and you can feel him twitch meaning he’s was going to cum. You don’t put you mouth back, having the perfect scenario.

You let him come after rushing your hands up and down his length causing his hips to buck up as he bites his lip with a moan.

He cums all over his stomach the white substance not moving off, just staying in a puddle.

“Hmmm your looking tense still, I’m just going to see if we have some oils” you say before walking out back to where you’d hidden the lingerie set. You pop it on with a doctor coat over the top and come back in.

You see Max physically gulp looking up at you.

“Hmmmm not many oils but maybe this will do?” You say dipping a finger into the cum tasting it. You lean down licking across his soft abs until it’s all gone and swallowed.

“Hmmm what a shame. Oils it is” you say pouring some oil across his stomach.

“This isn’t a great angle. Do you mind?” You offer a hand for you to jump up.

“Anything to get me more relaxed Doc” he smiles pushing so he’s leaning up on his elbows. You jump up onto the bed, kneeling either side of him. Surprised with how you can both fit.

You run your hands along his chest using the oil to make it all the more slippery.

“Doc, I think my fingers need a work out” he grins, wanting to also please you but not break character. You guys had actually gotten really good at the whole acting portion of the role play, no wonder they asked Max to do that Heineken commercial.

“Oh, hmmmm well I’ll get to those later unless you can find a way” you smile sill rubbing the oils all over. He runs a hand down your stomach, pulling the edge of your panties down slipping his hand in so his fingers tease the edge of your folds.

“Mr Verstappen this is highly unprofessional” you grin and he grins back.

“I think you’re enjoying this massage though Doc, and you want to help me right?” He asks and you nod.

“Of course I do” and he continues to move in and out ever so slowly. You behind to rock your hips against him until the table makes an uncomfortable creek that has you both pausing.

You whine at the lack of contact, but stop moving you hips and let your boyfriend do all the work. His fingers are perfect, a nice size and length that reach the perfect spot in you.

“Ohhhhh Mr Verstappen” you moan with your head thrown back, stopping the massage on his chest.

You tighten around his fingers, coming with some shakes that again make the table dangerously creek.

“I think you need to talk to your maintenance man about the stability of you tables doc. Maybe he can … Yano help you out” he grins to you and you already know he’s getting more ideas for more scenarios you can both do in the future.

“Mmmm I think you’re right. You’re very good Mr Verstappen I’ll have to book you in again” you let out a relaxed sigh.

Safe to say the massage room want the only place you guys were intimate for the rest of the night. Jokes being thrown around after that if Lando ever went into that steam room when Max was there he’d tell him everything he done to you in that room. And the pool, and the sauna, and the rain room. As both a massager and you.

It was a very … busy night for you both.

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