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mv1simp · 23 days

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I love your stories so much, please write more dark manipulative Max, maybe something with mindbreak or bimbofication of an innocent reader? It would be fun if she was Toto's daughter and Max so holds it over Toto.

this is for all the dark!Max/toto’s daughter/bimbo/mindbreak reader requests all you freaks have been requesting 😼😼 for the first time i have something for the dark!lando girlies!!

Double Fantasy ♥️

Max Verstappen x Lando’s Fuckbuddy!Reader

I can tell that you think that I’m right for you, I already know that it's not true, but girl I'll lie to you (even though it's wrong)

Recently becoming a media executive for the FIA, you can’t deny that your dream job has given you access to your dream men. Sadly, your top pick, Max Verstappen doesn’t look twice your way - not interested in the daughter of Toto Wolff, who he openly dislikes. But you gladly enjoy your consolation prize of being Lando Norris’s fuckbuddy. You didn’t realise just how far Lando planned on extending your arrangement when he pisses the Dutch champion off one step too far - and now needs to figure out the perfect gift to give Max and make amends.

Content includes: 18+ MDNI, smut, dark! max, dark! Lando, but bimbo!reader is into it lol, have done a twist on the usual innocent! reader, she’s toto’s daughter also, dubcon, blindfold, BDSM, no threesomes sorry I can’t share max with anyone else, WC 5.6k

Multiple heads turn your way as you make your way down the FIA garage, your YSL black and gold heels clicking smoothly on the floor. You can’t hold back the pleased smile on your pink glossed lips at the appreciative glances over your curvy figure. At 22, you’ve landed your dream job as a marketing and media executive for the FIA. Glowing recommendations, a perfect GPA and of course a touch of good old fashioned nepotism via your dad, the Mercedes team principal Toto Wolff, landed you here, dressed in luxury outfits and regularly networking with some of the richest people on the continent. What can you say? You’re a material girl, after all, with a pleasure for the finer things in life.

And that included an appreciation of rich, powerful men that you inherited as a result of a strict and emotionless father who preferred to spend his time running a motorsports corporation instead of at home. Daddy issues, one might even say (actually your therapist had said exactly that.) So the Formula One grid, filled to the brim with hot, millionaire drivers who have no issue flirting with the new pretty little toy on the paddock, was the perfect place for a girl like you to work. You definitely had your fun, arriving a few months ago for your first day, dressed in a tight yet full length maxi dress, giving you the perfect blend of sexy and demure that had much of the paddock panting after you.

But you were a girl with a taste for luxury - you weren’t going to settle for any dirty mechanic or plain news reporter. No, what you wanted more than anything, was to get the best of both worlds like your lucky bitch of a stepmom Susie Wolff had done - FIA executive and WAG of the hottest and richest team principal. Even you had to admit, apart from your dad, the rest of the principals were a little bit too far on the balding old men side. But the drivers, you thought wickedly, the drivers were a completely different story. And they knew they were some of the most desired men on the planet, with their fame and status. Their egos were sky high - especially since multiple women would be throwing themselves at them every race weekend or media day. So you had made sure to play the game very, very carefully - unlike the other sultry models on the paddock, or conservative women dressed head to toe in basic team gear, you were the very picture of innocence with your sweet makeup and dark curls, cute girly dresses and heels, all shy giggles one minute and then serious, no nonsense businesswoman the next to keep them on their toes.

A lot of the drivers ate it up, too, flocking to Toto Wolff’s pretty daughter when they’d see you doing the occasional post race interview or brazenly flirting with you at a drivers’ meeting. But the one man who you truly wanted, the 26 year old in the Redbull gear with 3 world champions and a multimillionaire contract to his name, with intense blue eyes and thick thighs and broad shoulders, with a deep voice that sent shivers down your spine one second then flutters in your heart the next when you’d hear him laugh - he was the man who didn’t look twice your way. Despite your attempts to flutter your eyelashes, wearing tight outfits and bend over just so in a certain angle, or pressing your generous tits up against his bulging biceps as your breathlessly whisper Congratulations on the win, Max he wouldn’t even show a flicker of reciprocal interest. You were the daughter of Toto, after all - a principal who he was quite well known in the media for having ongoing disputes with for numerous years. As if Max Verstappen was going to be seduced by the likes of a gold digging daughter who was probably just as two faced as her father.

You’d pouted for weeks, growing bitter with jealousy at seeing Max instead walk around with Kelly, a pretty, tall and slim model who’d apparently outplayed you. But to your delight, you stumbled upon the best consolation prize. With all your pining you hadn’t realized you’d snagged one of the hottest and most desirable drivers on the grid - McLaren’s Lando Norris. Well, snagged was one way to put it - after all, a playboy like him was hard to pin down, especially when he knew how much pull he had over women. But you’d thought about that to, even going so far as saving your virginity like the perfect daddy’s little girl you were. Lando ate it up, twistedly enjoying getting to corrupt the paddock’s pretty princess, the one everyone wanted to get a piece off. So unlike the other women he slept with, the ones kept secret and hidden from the media, you were his favourite toy - one that he paraded around whenever you’d be in the same city. Not quite a girlfriend, of course, he was far too much of a flirt to put such a label on you so soon - more of a friends with benefits, a high maintenance fling, a fuckbuddy, some might call it.

And once you had your manicured hands clinging onto his arms at the races you sure as hell did not plan on letting go. Toto was not overly happy at the news that his eldest daughter was involved with a driver, of course, but had accepted it as Lando was still a good choice compared to many of the other drivers he wanted you to stay well away from - like Mad Max. So you stayed loyal to Lando, not wanting any rumours about you flirting with multiple drivers to impact your dad’s important reputation. You’d only flutter your lashes at Lando, kissing his cheek diligently with your glossed lips, sending the naughty photos of you in expensive lingerie just for him - because the rewards you got as his paddock arm candy were just too good. Always making sure your face was well cut out from any pictures, of course - you would die if they got leaked and your father found out.

But being Lando’s fuckbuddy came with a whole line of luxuries you’d quickly grown accustomed too. Tickets to whatever show you wanted, the finest food at the most expensive restaurant, the papparazzi going crazy at whatever outfit you’d wear when clinging onto Lando’s arm, and of course one of the most coveted men in the world between your legs, teaching you how to come apart on his fingers. That’s right, his fingers, and very rarely his cock, because you needed to secure that diamond ring, after all. And you sure as hell weren’t going to give him wife privileges 24/7 when he hadn’t even made you his official girlfriend yet. So instead you tried to push him to the limits, testing his patience to give up and retire his playboy ways if he finally got to bury his desperate dick inside your heavenly tight pussy again, after having taken your virginity.

Truly, you had outdone yourself, you thought, as every passing race this season Lando got more and more tense as tensions for the World Championships grew, with McLaren finally being able to threaten the Verstappen Red Bull reign for the first time in years. And with each passing race, he couldn’t relieve the tension enough, trying to furiously fuck his way through all number of vogue models but somehow always finding himself back with you, desperately begging to be let in between your soft thighs. And like always, you’d blink innocently and coo that you felt too shy, wasn’t last time enough, you didn’t want to ruin yourself for the man you were going to marry, remember?

And Lando would groan, because as much as he wanted you, he also knew there was no way in hell he was ready to take you to the altar over this. Although it had been getting harder and harder to resist, lately, because although you were truly so talented with your small hands and sweet, drooling mouth, he would endlessly replay the heaven that your pussy had felt like the rare few times you’d let him enter you with his cock.

But as the season went on even you couldn’t calm Lando down, especially after the Zandervoot race. Tensions were at an all time high between him and his normally good friend Max, after Lando stole his home race under him and even sealed the deal by throwing the Dutchman’s simply lovely phrase back at him cockily. Max was well and truly pissed off at Lando then, not even turning upto their weekly Padel games or replying to his texts. Although Lando wanted to win the championship, he also wanted to remain good mates with Max - especially because he knew being on Mad Max’s bad side always ended with the opponent finding themselves crashing into a wall at the next race. So as he pondered just what he could do to get his friend’s forgiveness, a wicked idea came to him, one night when he was out at a Monaco nightclub with you and had run into Max partying with his friends. He’d tried to talk to Max, but had been rudely ignored, so instead Lando stood off the corner, rather crossly glaring at the Dutchman, when he noticed you’d disappeared from his side to tipsily wander to the bar and get another drink.

He was about to go help you when he saw you stumble, maybe take you to the bathroom for a quick sloppy blowjob - but was suprised to see Max appear at your side, his intense blue eyes watching your tinier frame carefully as he rested a large palm over your plump ass to secure you. And Lando watched as you giggled happily, twirling your hair as Max handed over his black Amex to pay for your drink, rewarded with a lingering lip glossed kiss on his cheek from you, before you scampered back over to where Lando was hidden in the shadows. And as you loyally returned to Lando’s arms, whispering that you were going to make him feel so good tonight, he seemed so tense, the Brit found himself ignoring your seductive words entirely to instead focus on how Max’s hungry gaze lingered on your ass as you had strutted away from the tall blonde man. A sinister grin appeared on Lando’s face as he pieced it all together. He’d always thought it was weird that Max chose to completely ignore you, given that he normally was a friendly guy off the track. Turns out his good mate was just trying to avoid getting involved with Toto’s paddock bunny of a daughter, huh?

Turning his attention to you, Lando whispered if you could pretty please try out something new for him tonight, because he was really stressed, okay? He watches you nod eagerly, foolishly thinking your plan to get Lando so desperate for you that he was ready to put a ring on your finger was working. Too bad you had no idea that instead, your fuckbuddy was thinking about how he’d just found the perfect present to gift to his angry rival.

So that’s how you found yourself in a plush hotel bed later that night, all dressed up in a pretty white lace and mesh set and still in your heels, your eyes blindfolded with your hands tied behind your back. You eyes had gone wide with excitement, thighs clenching when Lando had pulled the ropes out, and you’d had to blush and act all innocent when secretly you couldn’t be happier that you were drawing out the dirtier desires in Lando. Because that meant he was falling for you all the more, right?

You had no idea about the private conversation your fuckbuddy had been having with the driver you’d previously desired, just outside the club in a dark alleyway, where Lando had finally cornered Max to apologise. The furious Dutchman had, as expected, been in no mood to hear it - but had stopped in his tracks and turned around when Lando slyly suggested that as he had taken something of his, it was only fair that Max get one of Lando’s precious things in return. Like maybe…you?

At the mention of your name, Max furrows his brows, telling Lando he wasn’t interested in the latest toy on the grid who spread her legs for whichever driver gave her some attention. Oh, Lando all but purred, that’s the catch, mate. She’s basically still a virgin, was one when I met her, only let me fuck her a couple of times, wants to save herself for the one or some shit. But I trained her how to use her holes, and fuck does she know how to suck a guy off with that sweet mouth of hers.

That’d caught Max’s attention, and he smirked to Lando, calling him a fucked up asshole for selling out the girl who was loyal to him like this, who was Toto Wolff’s daughter, no less - a powerful man someone like Lando wouldn’t want to make an enemy off. The Brit shrugged. Toto’s never going to find out. What’s mine is yours, mate. Enjoy. And with that, he tossed his room key to Max.

That night, Lando didn’t feel bad, not even one bit, as he tightly wound the rope around your delicate little wrists, knowing that you loved to act all innocent but secretly kinky shit like this has you dripping. Especially if you were going to be ruined tonight by a man who you secretly still had desires for - and Lando was certain you did, judging from the way he’d seen you look at Max like he was a God you wanted to worship on your knees. Really, he was being a good friend to you both by letting it happen - just this once of course, he wasn’t going to just hand you over to his track rival after putting in so much work to train you to be the perfect sex toy. So he’d left you there all alone in the room, abruptly saying he had an urgent call and would be back.

The drinks you’d had earlier certainly had their affects on you, making you whine against the tight ropes on your flushed and sensitive skin, almost grateful for the blindfold as you felt overstimulated already. When you finally heard the hotel door reopen, you sighed in relief as your fuckbuddy - soon to be boyfriend, you hoped! - finally came back. In your wildest fantasies you’d never have guessed that instead of Lando locking the door, Max stood in his place - and had taken one look at your tempting, restrained form and realized that the sly Brit had definitely not told you about his plans for tonight. Keeping you blind and tied up while you were tricked into thinking it was your beloved Brit entering you and not your daddy’s enemy, Max Verstappen? It was so dirty that Max got an instant hard on. He’d seen the looks, the touches you gave him too - they were rather hard to miss, after all. But he’d played aloof, not wanting to give into your gold digging ways - but he’d admit that he’s been rather disappointed when he found you’d settled for Lando instead. You’d surprised him with how loyal you remained to the McLaren driver, dutifully remaining by his side and avoiding Max’s intense gaze when it would occasionally flicker over to you. But when the alcohol had loosened your inhibitions tonight, Max had seen the desire in your blown pupils, in your hardened nipples that peaked just at the edge of your dress, and had cockily smirked at the realisation that Lando’s little toy, Toto’s precious daughter - that she was still lusting after him.

And now that this opportunity had presented itself….well, let’s just say that it had Max grinning wickedly as he plotted up all the ways he could walk away with both you and the world championship from Lando this year. That would certainly teach the younger male to mess with what was his, wouldn’t it? And even better, it would put that arrogant prick Toto in his place, keep him from daring to speak out against Max in the media when Redbull trashed Mercedes - because his adored little daughter would be spending the race weekends on her hands and knees for the Dutch world champion, if Max had anything to say about it.

So that’s how Max found himself at the foot of the bed, stripping off his clothes and lazily jerking himself off as he watched you squirm underneath your ropes, pouting as you couldn’t do your usual bit of trailing teasing hands all over Lando and rile him up. Baby? You crooned, tilting your head in the direction you thought he was in. Aren’t you going to-Oh!

You felt his warm, large palms cup your cheek, tracing your glossy, pink lips and you automatically poke your tongue out to circle his finger. Good girl, he sighed, the words making your tummy flutter. He sounded a little different to usual, his voice deeper, lower, but it was hard to think clearly over how much your head was pounding from raw desire, and you liked how he sounded tonight. You were feeling really horny and couldn’t wait for him to finally fuck you too - having had to desperately ride your tiny vibrator after stopping Lando fucking you multiple times this month.

His hands continued their path, trailing over your delicate throat and teasingly encircling it with his large hand, making you gasp - you hadn’t remembered it being quite so large that it wrapped around the whole width of your neck. But maybe your senses were more attuned now since you were blindfolded? It felt really good.

You promptly forgot to think about that any longer when those large hands moved downwards, roughly palming your bouncy tits and making you giggle from his attention. He teased and squeezed them, tugging down on the lace to free them in the open air, twisting on your hardened cute nipples. You squealed from the abuse to your overly sensitive areolas, distracted, and didn’t notice when your hands ended up being untied - only to be guided to a very large and hard cock.

Baby, you’d giggled, it’s been so long that you’re even bigger than I remembered. He swore under his breath as you diligently jerked him off with your two small hands barely wrapping around his length, spitting on it cutely to ease the glide. And then he’s rubbing his leaking cock all over your tits, slapping them with it and chuckling darkly as they jiggled, all wet from his precum. Before you know it, you were drooling and suckling all over his cock, sweetly moaning how good he tasted, even more than last time. Suckling his balls and then licking all the way the very tip, just like he’d taught you, placing messy lip gloss stained kisses down the wet shaft before sucking them clean off. You made sure to pay extra attention to the thick veins that ran underneath his length, even the new ones you hadn’t felt before, because he’d told you it drove men wild.

And when he grabbed your pretty curls, you let your mouth go lax so he could pump his full length furiously down your inviting throat, groaning how much of a good girl you were, maybe your full time job should be sucking his cock instead of trotting about the paddock. You moaned excitedly at the idea, and when he cums, all thick and creamy, you obediently swallow it all up.

Look, daddy, you say rather sluttily, dropping your mouth wide open, tongue out as you showed him how well you’d drank all his cum. Fuck, that’s so dirty, calling me and your father the same name, huh? Should’ve known you’d be into kinky shit like this.

You scrunch your brows cutely in confusion, not sure what he meant by that because you’d called him daddy many times before. But you don’t get to ponder too long because you suddenly hear the sound of a camera click and can see the flash go off through the blindfold. Your tummy lurches, because Nooo, baby, no photos, please, what if my dad sees-

Your pleas are ignored as you’re being lifted by two broad arms and tossed onto the bed, your hands dragged up and over your head as your wrists are tied to the headboard. You’re whining, asking him what he was doing, this was too much, you wanted to see him now, to touch him, but again you don’t get an answer.

Instead, you feel his thick fingers hooking around the sides of your soaked panties and sliding them off, lewd strings of your wetness clinging to the lace as it’s pulled away. Then you hear him deeply exhale a fucking hell, making you blush as strong hands grasp your ankles and push them far apart so your intimate parts are exposed for his hungry gaze.

That’s all the warning you get before there’s a foreign sensation of his warm breath blowing on your puffy folds, making you gasp, and before a broad tongue licks a stripe clean up your pink slit. You squeal in suprise, again stupidly babbling and asking what he was doing, because normally Lando didn’t like going down on you, finding it too much effort for a quick stress relieving fuck - he much preferred having you suck him off instead.

But the mouth currently lapping at your folds seems to have realized just how unfamiliar this pleasure seems to be for your sensitive cunny, because he buries his face right in, licking and slurping up all your dripping wetness. You thrash against your restrains, incoherently moaning because it feels so good baby, mmmh, why didn’t he do this more?

He laughs huskily, still buried inside your folds, and the deep vibrations make you almost cum right then and there. Your whole body is burning up with need now and you’re begging for him to put the condom on and slide in it, daddy, please, you needed it so bad-

You both moan as he finally sinks home, your creamy pussy gushing around him as it welcomes him in. You feel breathless at the size of him, because again he’s bigger and thicker than you remembered - not even just his cock, but his whole body, his bulging biceps and broad chest being able to hold you down with ease. You let him know it, too, whining that he’s so strong, it was really hot, had he been working out more?

That made him laugh again, lips grinning right by your ear, as he tilts your hips up to meet his and starts fucking your gushing pussy roughly. Through your euphoric daze, you feel familiar butterflies swirl in your stomach at the deep laugh, the accent sounding so different from Lando’s but still familiar to you for some reason - yet you still couldn’t quite place it. It was impossible to focus with the way he was thrusting into you, his hands pressing your hips down into the mattress in a bruising grip, making your tits bounce with each pump, your breath come out in soft pants as you gasped for air. You’re about to cum, you can feel it, the intensity building up-

And then, finally, he takes off your blindfold. Your brown eyes take a second to adjust to the bright lights - and then you widen them in pure shock as you realize just who’s wide cock was splitting you open.

You scream as Max grins wickedly down at you, pulling back to leave just his leaking tip inside your tight cunny, before slamming back in and, setting a bed breaking pace and drowning out your panicked wails with the loud banging of the headboard against the walls. You’re doing so good for me, schatje he croons, his voice sickly sweet but his actions pure evil as he grabs your dirty panties and meanly shoves them past your plush lips. Grabbing your soft thighs, he tosses them over his shoulder as he bullies his cock into you even deeper from this angle, repeatedly hitting your poor cervix. Tears pool in your brown doe eyes as you look at where he enters you, horrified as you see he’s making you take his cock raw - something Lando and you never did despite how hot it sounded as a baby outside of marriage would be too much for both of your families. You cry and wail and scream, tears streaming down your face at the embarrasing and degrading treatment you’re experiencing. Really, it’s such wicked and sinful behaviour and you should hate Max so much for this, hate Lando for leaving you all tied up and alone and defenceless against his evil and twisted rival to take advantage of you like this, to bully your practically virgin cunny with each deep thrust from his massive cock.

So why are you rapidly reaching your orgasm even faster than before?

Max has apparently learnt the signs of your pliant body underneath him far too quickly, because he slides his thick cock out of your swollen cunny and instead rests it just on top of your folds. Almost lovingly wiping your tears away with a flick of his thumb, he demands that you beg for it, for his cock to split you in half, to cum inside you, for him, Max, to be the only man you ever let inside your sweet pussy from now on.

You frantically shake your head, your muffled no no nos an obvious contrast to what you secretly wanted, as you’re simultaneously bucking your hips up against his hard length, drenching it in new slick. He smirks, leaning down so your foreheads meet and sweetly kissing up your tears. Despite the depravity of the situation, you’re finding yourself blushing from the unexpected gesture. Schatje, he whispers darkly, sending shivers up your spine because you’d always gotten jealous hearing him call other women that, you’re making this so much harder on yourself. It’s going to be so fun to watch you fall apart for me.

With that, he agonisingly tortures you, dragging just his tip through your folds again and again, slapping your throbbing clit with his head, biting and sucking on your sensitive nipples that leaves you arching your back into his talented mouth. You’re struggling to make sense of what’s going on, of trying to keep coherent. All that hard work and patience to try and lure Lando in was gone the very second your pussy had welcomed Max into it, because you knew Lando would never take you back if he found out about this. Your desperate brain reasons that then, it shouldn’t matter, right? It was too late for you and Lando. And now, you had Max Verstappen using your pretty body however he wanted, making you fulfill all his twisted desires. If you showed him how good you could be for him, be the perfect little pet for all his frustrations to be let out at, maybe he’d keep you around…permanently?

Max didn’t miss the dazed look that had overtaken your wide doe eyes as your whines quietened down. Guess all his teasing had finally melted that scheming brain of yours. Yanking your panties out of your mouth, he asked you if you were ready to behave and ask him nicely.

You nod obediently, looking at him with heart eyes as you confess that his cock felt so good, so addictive, you don’t think you could ever go back to Lando after being stretched open so wide, and could he pretty please fuck you hard and good?

Max growls at your submissive words. You’re offering yourself up to me so sweetly, baby. How can I say no?

He unties your aching wrists, running his soothing palms over the rope marked skin, bending down to give you a passionate, open mouthed kiss. You greedily slurp at his intruding tongue, letting yourself get lost in the pleasure as he lines himself up at your entrance before easily sinking into the wet folds. This time, he doesn’t stop his wicked thrusts, not when you’re squirting on his cock, eyes rolling to the back of your head, not when a creamy ring forms around the base of his cock from your cum, not when you’re tangling your hands in his hair and whining that it’s too much, you’re going to pass out.

He only stops once he’s tensing above you, one hand squeezing your neck and the other gripping the headboard as he drains his entire load into your tight cunny desperately clenching around him. Yours is truly the sweetest pussy he’s ever fucked. He’s never letting you go. He cums so much that it spurts out past your pussy lips, all over your soft thighs.

After a while, when he’s done whispering praises into your ears, your gooey brain soaking it all up, he slides out of you, admiring how his cum leaks out of your cunny that had treated him very well tonight. He places a gentle kiss to your temple and lets you doze off for a bit. It takes you a while longer to come to your senses, and when you sit up, you gulp down the glass of cold water that has been placed on the bedside table. You see Max spread out on an armchair across the room, shirtless and in some grey sweats, smirking at something on his phone - but he looks up when he hears you and lets his gaze drift down your marked up body. You flush under his intense ice blue eyes, heart fluttering at finally getting attention from the richest and fastest driver on the grid.

He beckons you over, calling you his pretty schatje, and in your blissed out state you obediently crawl over to him on your hands and knees, settling in between his spread legs and resting your head against his large thigh. And when he tells you that you looked so cute crawling for him, maybe next time he’ll get you a leash and collar with his name on it, hmm? you bite your lip and shyly nod, telling him of course, you’d do whatever daddy wanted.

He grins darkly, pleased with your submissive response, knowing you’re completely his. Forget Toto, forget Lando, the only man you’d ever be loyal to from now on was him. So you eagerly open your juicy lips wide at his command, drooling all over his cock to clean up the sticky mess your pussy walls had left behind. And when he points his phone at you, hitting record, you glassily stare straight at the camera, letting it capture how you hollowed your cheeks and licked up the creamy ring coating the base of Max’s cock. Gonna send this to your father if he keeps lying about how I’ve going to sign a Mercedes contract next year, Max teases meanly. Or to Lando if he tries to overtake me on the track again. You whine at him, brown doe eyes distressed, and start deepthroating him even faster to please him more, hoping if you did he wouldn’t show your daddy or ex fuckbuddy how much of a slut you were for the champion driver.

Being on your knees and obediently blowing Maxie was a position you became very familiar with. Because like he had wanted, every race weekend you would break your FIA contract clause of remaining unbiased and be dressed in a skimpy little outfit in Redbull colours, your lush tits pushed against Max’s thick biceps as you clung onto him through his paddock walk. Max couldn’t resist smirking at the Mercedes garage where Toto would glare, arms crossed, at the sight of his well accomplished daughter following the reckless Redbull champion around like a lost bunny. Placing a possessive large palm across your ass as he guided you into his private jet, giving it a good squeeze, Max made sure the paparazzi caught a good pic of that, too, for your father to see later when he opened Twitter.

And Lando, who knew how much Max despised sharing his toys, skulked from his seat when he saw you entering Max’s plane for the ride back to Monaco. He’d make sure to never make the mistake of flying in the Verstappen jet again, he thought as he moodily shoved his headphones over his ears to drown out the filthy sounds and desperate moans you let out as Max fucked you raw on the other side of the cabin divider. You’d never let Lando fuck you in such a public place or so often, no matter how often he’d begged you.

Fuck it, might as well make the most of it, the Brit thought once he stopped moping and realised his music wasn’t going to block out the obscene squelches as his rival continued to greedily bounce your creamy pussy on his thick cock. Shoving his hand down his pants, Lando slowly started jerking himself off, smirking when he sees one of Max’s air hostesses blush and bite her lip when he catches her looking. Apparently he hadn’t learnt his lesson of keeping his hands off what belonged to the Dutchman after all, because soon he’s thrusting into the hostess’s willing mouth with the same rapid pace that Max is fucking you with.

Your father had always said birds of a feather flocked together, after all.

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A/N: POST FIC CLARITY HIT HARD IN THIS ONE AHHHHHH 😳😳 hope this satisfies the dark max hoes (yall are so real for that)😼😼 as usual let me know what you think and send in more requests!

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formulawolff · 2 months

Text

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪. setting it straight ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪.

pairing: female driver!reader x toto wolff

word count: idek tbh

warnings: age gap relationship, oral (f! receiving… toto is a munch confirmed) cursing, allusions to sex in public, toto being sexy, slight dom vibes (from toto), poorly translated german, probably some poor grammar, yadayadayada

a/n: i’m absolutely fried rn & it was missing toto and golden girl hours. i don’t apologize for this and will not be apologizing for how absolutely filthy it is!

his tongue drags.

it’s flattened against your soaked folds, carefully taking in the way your juices seep on to his tongue.

“t-toto,” the way his name falls from your lips is utterly sinful.

it’s a pant, a mere mewl brimmed with nothing but pleasure.

“what is it?” he’s nearly out of breath, intoxicated off your taste, “what is it, my love?”

“w-we shouldn’t,” your hips writhe, squirming as his hands envelop your thighs, tightening as the last few words tumble out, “we shouldn’t be doing this.”

“oh?” he cocks his head, “should i stop then?”

you’re teetering on the edge of cumming, just on the brink.

though, you don’t have to tell him that.

he’s well aware.

he can sense your ragged breathing, the way your chest heaves. how your battered clit throbs, swollen and engorged from his teasing tongue. your skin is nearly burning as the pads of his thumbs caress your inner thighs.

“please don’t stop.”

“are you sure?”

his mocha depths are almost a shade darker than usual, nearly an obsidian hue. they’re fiery with lust as he takes you in once again, absolutely soaked and aching.

aching for release.

he hums, prompting you to answer, “can i continue or are we done here?”

“you can’t just leave me like this,” you protest, shaking your head furiously, “please, toto. i need it.”

“and what do you need?” your jaw tightens as you notice the smug smirk, “tell me, baby. what do you need?”

“i need you to make me cum.”

“that’s all i needed to hear,” he clicks his tongue, obviously please with your answer.

there was really no explaining how you got to be in this position.

well, maybe there was.

it was a rough race weekend in spa.

with the disqualification, daniel’s little stunt, and your fourth place finish, it wasn’t really quite the weekend you had in mind.

you were over the moon for george of course. well, until the disqualification. that put toto in a pretty sour mood. not to mention the plethora of reporters and media following him around after that news broke. that really almost sent him over the edge.

and you didn’t want to him started on daniel’s little stunt either.

just before qualifying, you were in the garage with alex, recording a bit for your upcoming podcast episode. before you knew it, daniel was strolling in, wrapping an arm around your shoulders, proclaiming how much he missed you and how he wanted to rekindle your friendship.

the entire thing caught you completely off guard, your mind reeling as daniel shot you a wink, waving goodbye as he exited the paddock. it only lasted about three minutes, yet felt like an eternity.

and the worst part about it?

a fan recorded daniel as he left the garage, promptly posting it to their tik tok page. that tik tok was then plastered all over instagram and x, sparking all sorts of rumors.

rumors that you were possibly cheating on the team principal with daniel.

the incident left you speechless, unable to string together an incoherent thought, let alone focus on qualifying. you ended up placing eighth, one of the lower finishes you have had in quite some time. it left james questioning your ability to make a podium, not to mention the thousands of posts bashing you, undermining your skills and credibility as a driver.

although toto could see right through daniel, you could tell it had pissed him off.

more than he would have liked to admit.

so the moment you were alone, you found him in your driver’s room, locking the door, practically pouncing on you.

he wouldn’t say it, but you knew what he was doing.

he was setting the record straight.

reminding you that you were his.

and only his.

the only way he knew how.

“you’re mine, you know that?”

you blink, registering that he’s still positioned between your thighs, on his knees, hovering at the edge of the couch.

“is this about daniel?”

“natürlich ist es das,” his tongue darts out, circling around your clit, “ich musste dich daran erinnern, wem du gehörst.”

“hör auf damit,” you tsk, rolling your eyes, “you have nothing to worry about.”

“i know,” his lashes flutter as he murmurs, his gaze fixated on your drenched core. he lifts a finger, the digit tracing along your folds, “it’s not you i’m worried about. it’s him.”

“aber du bist der mann, den ich liebe.”

his heart skips a beat, the team principal’s lust dissipating for just a moment. he couldn’t help but melt at the softness in your voice, at the sureness in those words.

fuck, did he love you.

oh so much.

propelling himself upward, a hand connects with your cheek, thumb trailing along your cheekbone, “i love you, my sweet girl.”

“i love you more, toto.”

shaking his head, the team principal can’t help but grin, dimples forming as he notices your beautiful smile take shape.

“and i love you most.”

#toto wolff #toto wolff x reader #toto wolff x y/n #toto wolff smut #toto wolff fanfiction #formula 1 #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 fic #alkaline: female driver! x toto wolff #alkaline series #alkaline #formula one #formula one x reader #f1 #f1 x reader

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phoneticgrip · 2 years

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thinking about the time i went to harryween n1 last year and i wore a heck ton of blush to be sapphic beverly crusher in the leotard from that one episode of tng and then harry showed up in a heck ton of blush to be dorothy and kicked off a fever dream of a show and sang the most earnest cover of over the rainbow all in the name of honoring queer people and the importance of that song and judy garland and the wizard of oz and halloween and just the how pretty and playful and spiritually healing the entire night was for queer people i will never forget that thank u harry.

#this is incoherent but i hope people get to have a bit of that joy this weekend #also orville peck?!??!#the entire band that were in on it???#at one point i embraced someone dressed up as leeroy from the best song ever video #the absolute mania when 'we're off the see the wizard' starting playing #the absolute silliness of carrying around the basket with toto in it #the clicking of the ruby slippers #that one video of the chandelier shaking in the venue below #what even happened #what was any of that #i am truly grateful that i got to have that #harry

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no-144444 · 2 months

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false starts and unthinkable mistakes- o.piastri 81

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summary: oscar comes to you after a difficult race

pairing: oscar piastri (81) x Wolff fem reader

a/n: so yall… I wrote this on thursday before spa and guys… im feeling like a psychic now and not in a good way wtf.

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A false p1? What the fuck? He’d worked his ass off, driven perfectly, made all the right calls, and still it wasn’t enough because the car was 2 fucking kilograms underweight. It meant all his hard work was for nothing.

Fuck that.

Oscar walked through the paddock, a frown firmly on his lips as Lando and Zak tried helplessly to comfort him, but it was no use. He’d been disqualified, and you weren’t even there to comfort him. He did realise how this would have to happen someday, especially since he was dating another team’s lead engineer, but another part of him just wanted you to be there and hold him, the second he got off the podium. He wanted to share his victory with you, kiss you like the other boys were allowed to kiss their girlfriends, but Toto (also, sadly, your father) would never let you.

And then he wanted you waiting outside the stewards room for him after.

But you were probably too busy celebrating.

He walked into his room, thanking the boys for their kind words, but ultimately just wanting to be alone.

“Hi,” your soft voice surprised him. He whipped his head around to see you sitting on his bed, still in full Mercedes uniform. “Are you ok?”

He didn’t think about it, any of it. He didn’t think about the open door, all the cameras nearby, the open window that was at street level, he didn’t care.

He stalked over to you in 3 long steps, and kissed you, right then and there.

He felt you try to pull away, but his grip on your waist wouldn’t let you, as well as the arm wrapped around your neck. He wasn’t letting you go.

“Baby-“ you pulled away chuckling as he caught his breath. “Relax, I’m right here.”

He smiled, for the first time in an hour. “I know,” he took a deep breath. “Just happy to see you.”

You smiled. “How was the FIA?”

He sighed, sitting down next to you and wrapping his arms around you. “Bullshit.”

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled.

“I don’t care though,” he pressed a kiss to the top of your head. “ ‘Cause you’re here.”

He felt your smile against his neck and felt a sense of pride in his chest.

“How did you sneak away so quickly?”

“My dad and I got in a fight over something stupid and he said he wanted me gone, so I left,” you shrugged.

Oscar held his breath. “Was it a fight over…?”

“Us? Yeah,” you clarified. “He wants us to break up.”

Oscar could feel his heart pounding a mile a minute. “Oh.”

“I told him he could shove it. Don’t worry Piastri, you’re stuck with me forever,” you chuckled, then pressed a comforting kiss to his neck.

He let out a breath he didn’t realise he was holding, and smirked. “Good.”

You kissed up his neck and his jaw, then landed on his lips, but pulled away when you heard the camera click.

One of the well-known photographers was at the door, looking guilty.

“Hey!” Oscar shouted, but they were already down the hall by the time you two got up.

“Fuck,” you cursed as he closed the door. “That’s going to be main news tomorrow.”

“It’s alright,” he wrapped his arms around you, pulling your head into his chest. “We’re fine.”

You nodded, trying desperately to believe him but knowing it would definitely test things, especially with your dad.

“And don’t worry about your dad. I’m going to go talk to him,” Oscar promised.

“Osc, I can’t ask you to do that, no,” you shook your head, though you really didn’t want to deal with Toto’s inevitable hissyfit. You also didn’t want to deal with all the shit the press was going to say about you two. You could hear the articles already; “Oscar Piastri and Y/n Wolff. F1 princess going for the next winner?” And other shit like “Did Toto Wolff disown his daughter after she went to McLaren?”

And you knew your dad wouldn’t hold back on details if he was asked about it. He’d tell them you’d been dating for 2 years, he’d tell them you two lived together in the off-season, and he’d tell them that he didn’t approve.

“It’s alright,” he soothed. “I’m going to have to talk to him sometime.”

You nodded, but hoped Oscar wouldn’t.

“Anyways, let’s just relax for a few hours, yeah?”

“Yeah,” you nodded. You two lay together for a few hours, just watching some random show you two liked, and you fell asleep in his arms.

You two would be fine. Oscar would make sure of it.

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navigation for my blog :) (masterlist)

#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 x you #formula one imagine #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri #oscar piastri x you #formula one x reader #formula 1 #formula one #mclaren #oscar piastri x fem!reader

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tiredmamaissy · 3 months

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Ralak te Sepawn ieyk’itan: Special Episode VI

Labor of Love - Part III

Masterlist ; Rut/Heat/Knotting Info

🔞 minors, do not interact 🔞

Hyperlinks are attached to specific paragraphs that when clicked on will lead you to its illustration by Ralak's insanely talented creator @zestys-stuff. Thank you so much for allowing me to play around with your characters!

Characters: Metkayina!Ralak (25) x Sully!Omaticaya!Reader (20) featuring Metkayina!Zu’té (29)

Warnings: zero smut, explicit childbirth, water birth, difficult labour, contractions, amniotic fluid, breastfeeding, family fluff, expletives, this is a bit angsty but there’s a happy ending

Word Count: 7.3k

Requested: Yes || No

Author’s Note: the following depicts a very detailed, difficult, and medically inaccurate birth. This is graphic. I am quite literally going to simulate a birthing experience in your pov and I strongly suggest opting out now if anything pregnancy or birth related could make you uncomfortable. Finally, this is most definitely not medical advice, nor should this be used as a reference for what to expect during birth. This is a fanfiction about blue aliens, after all. With that being said, let’s welcome Ralak into fatherhood!! Enjoy 😊

Synopsis: Things were moving too fast until they weren't moving fast enough. The time has come and you're starting to doubt your capabilities. But thankfully your mate is here to guide you through this.

<- Previous

“Okay, Toto. Just do it. Go in there.” Zu’té sounds breathless as he speaks to himself, turning around to face the door. He hears your whimper and his jaw tightens. “Shit. Okay. Right.” Just as he raises his hand to pull back the curtain, he hears a winded voice. “Brother.”

Zu’té spins around to face the voice of an angel—Ralak.

“Oh, thank Eywa. Thank you great mother. Thank you.” Zu’té chants in relief despites being one of the least spiritual persons someone can meet. He knew deep down that Eywa answered his call.

Zu’té makes eye contact with the dishevelled and worn out giant. His attention is immediately drawn to the lengthy gash on his shoulder that seems to have been stitched up in a haste.

“Ay’ana.” Ralak growls when he sees him staring.

The colour drains from Zu’té ‘s face, but before he can respond, Ralak’s ears perk up when they hear what seems to be a low whimpering. It sounds as if you're straining and struggling to breathe. His eyes dart behind Zu’té and then quickly snap back to his brother, filled with panic.

Zu’té just barely shakes his head, urging himself to focus on the most important thing right now.

“Your mate is in labour, tak.”

Ralak’s eyes widen at the confirmation. He knew it. He felt it back inland.

Without another passing second, Ralak pushes past Zu’té and enters his marui. You hear the faint flap of the door and try to shift yourself in order to keep some level of decency.

“I said to leave.” You’re breathless, gripping relentlessly onto the wooden stilt.

Ralak’s frozen in place, taking in the sight of you labouring by yourself. One that no matter how painful, is a sight he has always longed to see. A sense of pride fills his chest, his mate is showing such great strength that it’s admirable. Bringing life to his child is something he will eternally be grateful for.

But then he sees your fingernails. How they've gone dull from all your gripping and scraping, and his sense of pride quickly mixes with shame. Shame that he has left you alone in this.

Your laboured breathing is audible, practically wheezing as you struggle to breathe through the last lap of this contraction. You keep holding your breath and it’s more than evident from the red tinge in your face. Breathing is no longer the thing that you’re most focused on anymore, it’s the pressure between your legs.

He doesn't want to startle you but he can’t just watch you suffer any longer. He approaches you cautiously, examining you in attempts to discern how far into your labour you are.

You're glazed in a layer of sweat, glimmering in the faint light of the first sliver of sun. Your shoulders rise and fall rapidly as you pant faster than a viperwolf pup, and your belly is low and firm as it tightens from the contraction.

Ears laid flat to your skull and brows tightened, you curl over and clutch your stomach. He releases his clenched jaw and lessens the distance between the two of you. He gently places his hands on your lower back, pressing into you with the ball of his palm.

The warmth alone provides a bit of relief for you, allowing you to momentarily catch your breath.

“Zu’té.” You hiss under your breath, surprised he’s even come in, much less laid a hand on you.

You let go of the marui stilt to swat away his hand with a loud smack. The reminder of you labouring in the presence of another man that isn’t him makes him wince.

“Muntxate [wife].” Ralak husks quietly, using his thumbs to rub circles into your back. Your ears lift from your skull and perk up when you realise it’s your mate, back home from the excursion.

Tears overflow and spill down your cheeks. Tears of pain. Tears of exhaustion. Tears of relief.

“Ralak.” You let out a nasally sob, unable to look at him just yet due to the contraction still rippling through you. You speak between your moans, voice cracking.

“You’re back. You’re here. It’s happening, lak. He’s coming. And I—I thought you’d miss it. I thought you weren’t coming back. I thought… I thought—”

“Alright, alright. I am right here with you, tanhì. Mawey, mawey [calm, calm].” He hums steadily, already reaching behind him for his kuru. “How long have you been in labour?”

“D-Don’t know.” Your breath catches in your throat and your knees begin to tremble. “Too l-long.”

Ralak’s heart throbs in his chest at the thought of you enduring this on your own for that long. The contraction is finally subsiding, and you're eager to find relief in your mate. You exhale shakily and grip his wrist as you try to straighten your spine.

“Easy.” Ralak is quick to help you to your feet, holding you by your hip and arm. “Can you stand?”

You nod your head as you slump back into him regardless. “It’s happening, ‘lak.” You wheeze, resting your head on his chest. Despite the slight sting, Ralak smiles, joyful to know his son will soon be born.

“It is, my tanhì.” Ralak hums, swaying side to side with you against his body as he brings his glowing tendrils towards the end of your braid. He’s spent but he knows the exhaustion he feels is nothing in comparison to yours. “I am so sorry I have left you alone in this.”

“‘ts not your fault, my love.” You murmur, lulling your head against his chest. “...not your fault.”

Though your contraction has passed, the pressure in your pelvis has a steady, constant groan vibrating in your throat. It’s a feeling that won’t let up, and the further you progress the more intense it gets. It feels like your body’s at its limit, unable to accommodate your babe any longer.

“Mmmn—tsaheylu, please.” Your plea is drawn out and low, unaware that he’s already one step ahead of you.

When he makes the bond, the pressure is instantly lightened but is quickly replaced with a sharp pain in your shoulder and back. He sucks in a sharp breath and grimaces from the sudden pain and pressure that flows into him.

You gasp and clutch your left shoulder, whipping your head around to look behind you. Immediately, you catch sight of his wound.

Fresh blood spurts out between the ragged stitches and globbed over herbal concoction, dribbling down his chest and back in thin streams.

“Shit.” You curse, ripping your queue away from him, abruptly severing the bond—causing the pressure to come back tenfold. “Fuck—you’re injured.”

“I am fine.” Ralak insists, reaching for your kuru again.

“Tsaheylu will infect it.” You insist, keeping your kuru away from him.

“Ke tare [it doesn’t matter].” He says sharply, catching his tone and softening it. “Allow me, please.”

Ralak reaches for your kuru again, eager to make it up to you—to take the pain for whatever time you have left. But you shake your head firmly.

The fact that making tsaheylu caused it to rupture and bleed, a gash that size will surely worsen with the influence of your labour. Ralak respects your wish, although he’s in disagreement with it. He’d never make the bond without your consent and he feels as if he’s already missed too much of your labour to continue the argument.

“…what happened?” You ask shakily, terrified to know the answer. “Wh-What did they do to you?” You feel yourself begin to tear up.

Seeing him so hurt always made your heart heavy.

Your question catches him off guard, bringing him back to the moment he saw his own karyu. He swallows, having trouble keeping his calm and figuring out what to say. He has no intention of keeping it from you, but truthfully it isn’t the right time to speak of such matters. Not when you’re nearing the peak of the birth of your firstborn.

“Not now. You are labouring.” Ralak says sternly yet gently, reshifting his focus and concern back to you.

And if it weren’t for the unbearable heavy sensation in between your legs you would’ve protested. You nod lazily as your breath hitches repeatedly, your hand finding its way to the lowest part of your abdomen to press into it. Your lengthy groans start up again, you can feel your entire body begin to tense up.

“Another? So soon?” Ralak’s voice falters, concern now evident in his tone. He steadies himself behind you, pressing his hands into your lower back once more.

“Pressure. ‘ts too much.” You pant, leaning forward and using your free hand on the marui stilt for support.

“Pressure?” Ralak tries his best to understand what you mean. Thinking that he’s pressing too hard into your back, he eases up and apologises. You shake your head and quickly replace your hand onto the lowest part of your abdomen with his.

“Pressure!” You yelp the word like a plea for help, hoping he’ll get it without you needing to explain. Talking is becoming more difficult with each passing contraction. When he does finally understand, his eyes widen and brow bones jump.

“Ah—he is moving down, tanhì.” Ralak tries to speak calmly, sliding his other hand over your stomach. His fingers smooth over your skin, taking in its heat and supple texture. He then feels it tighten even more, contracting right under the pads of his digits.

“Tewti [whoa].”

It’s the first he’s ever felt a contraction, despite being a mandated witness to numerous first breath rituals in the clan. He begins counting under his breath, trying to gauge your progression by determining how long they’re lasting. But before he can get into the double digits your low grumble turns into a high pitched cry.

Ralaks ears immediately go flat, hearing a cry like that rip from your throat makes his heart tighten in his chest. He shuffles closer to you upon realising that you're curling over from the pain. Moving quickly, he supports your body weight with one hand to your belly and another over your chest.

“Ralak!” You cry out, “Please! Do something!”

With that, Ralak’s hands slip back down to your lower abdomen, cupping your belly and gently pull upward. This always helped if the baby was sitting too low, relieving some of the heaviness and pressure on your bladder.

Instantaneously, the pressure relieves. Your cry dissipates into a loud sigh, your downturned lips flipping up into a small smile of relief.

“Thank you—” Pop. “—ugh” Gush.

You’re silent, but your face screws into a grimace as the pain rushes back in with a vengeance. You look down in a painful daze, feeling the trickle of liquid down your thighs and legs. Through blurred vision, you watch as a pool forms at your feet, as well as Ralaks.

“Shit.” Ralak mutters under his breath, recognizing what’s just happened.

His head whips around to the sound of the flap of the marui door. He looks behind him, met with the panicked, bulging eyes of Zu’té, who’s staring intently at the scene unfolding before him. He's just worked up enough courage to enter the room.

Zu’té finally makes eye contact with Ralak, and Ralak nudges his chin in the direction of the village, mouthing—‘Get a healer’. Zu’té nods and takes off at full tilt.

“…fuck‘m sorry. My waters...” You mumble, fingers digging into his arms in attempts to keep you standing, to no avail.

Your knees buckle beneath you, and you lose all ability to keep yourself on your feet. Ralak supports you, moving down with you rather than trying to keep you standing. He slowly and gently lowers you to the floor, away from the growing puddle.

“What for? Your water breaking? No need to be.” Ralak chuckles breathily, trying to make it obvious that it’s no big deal—he’s unbothered by it.

“Me-messed you up.” You grunt, breath straining as you lean all your weight back into him.

“You did no such thing.” He reassures you through a quick breath, adjusting you into a more comfortable position.

You lay on top of him, shifting onto your side and off the sharp throb in your lower back. You clutch his bicep with one hand and keep the other snug under your bump.

He’s more so in an awkward position than not, his back now against the base of the bed and his right leg propped up to keep you from rolling back. He has no issue staying put in this position if it means some sort of relief for you.

But your groans only deepen, lengthening and ending with small grunts.

“You alright, mama?” He checks in on you through a whisper, knowing that things move quickly once the water breaks.

You nod your head, trying to be strong, but he can see right through it. And you know it. You sputter out a sob and shake your head, finally admitting the truth—finally facing reality.

“I know, I know, tìyawn. Almost there.”

Even without tsaheylu, he is able to tell how long you have left just based on your sounds and body language. With each little grunt he notices that your face shifts to a brighter shade of pink.

He takes note of your tail, and how it’s now tightly coiled, tucked to the base of your tailbone—out the way. Your shoulders are bowed and your stomach sits low, hard as a rock.

“Oh!—Eywa, ple-ase.” You mumble a plea, eyes squeezing shut when you come to the height of your contraction. “Mmm’fuck—fuck.”

“A little longer.” He places a firm, comforting kiss on the temple of your head. “It will soon be over.”

You feel Ralak’s hand firmly patting your lower back, attempting to put the fire out. But now the pressure’s released, the pain is only more intense—spreading and morphing into a new feeling altogether.

“Ralak—Ralak!” You panic, your head rolling side to side as you strive against this new sensation.

“Right here with you.” He hums, pressing hard into your lower back with the ball of his palm. “What do you need?”

You begin frantically tugging at your soaked loincloth, trying your hardest to get it off of you. Ralak quickly takes over, untethering the knot and slipping it off you.

“Need to—aahaa! I think he’s—haah—he’s—he’s coming!” You yell, unable to fight the new feeling. An urge you’ve never felt before. The urge to push. “Ralak—I’m scared!”

“Listen to your body.” Your mate encourages you with a steady and calm voice.

His gaze snaps down to witness your leg rising into the air and your hand hooking under the back of your knee. His hand cups over yours, helping you support the weight of your suspended leg.

Ralak manoeuvres himself in a way that allows him to support you and see what’s happening. He gently tugs your leg back a little further, having a proper look. He can see just how swollen and tender the flesh between your legs is—ripe and ready. It’s time.

“Muntxate [wife]. Bear down if you need to.”

“I—I—urgh!” You cry out, finally giving into the urge to push, allowing your body to bear down in the way it’s been trying to. Holding your breath, you tuck your chin to your chest and sink your fingernails into Ralak’s bicep, pushing as best as you can in this position.

“Good, good. Good push, tanhì.” His voice is hushed but steady as he watches in awe as your body flourishes. “Syeha si [breathe].”

As the urge subsides, you release your breath and gasp for air a few times. If he’s really coming, you don’t want it to be here. You had both discussed doing this in the comfort of your own lake. The lake in the cave, where your relationship with him had blossomed to begin with.

“Not here.” You say out of breath, legs shaking terribly.

Ralak leans in closer to you, listening carefully to decipher your murmurs. You keep your eyes closed shut, unable to open them anyway. They feel as heavy as you do, weighed down with exhaustion and agony.

But as you feel your stomach tighten and the urge rush back in, you realise that time lessening. “Water—get me in the water, please!”

Ralak hesitates, scanning your body to see if moving you in this state is the right thing to do. He watches as you tense up in agony as you contract, and quickly the realisation dawns upon him, too. At this rate, the babe will be here at any moment.

And if your wishes are to give birth in the water, now is the time to fulfil them.

Ralak scoops you up into his firm clutch, rises to his feet, and rushes out the door. Taking his time down the steps, your grip around his neck tightens just as a groan rumbles in your chest. Your legs squirm in his grasp as they try to snap open.

“Hurry! He’s coming!” You grunt, burying your face into the crease of his peck, biting down to fight the feeling.

Ralak glances down at you a few times, brows gathered from the worry that plagues his heart. He’s holding you tight, so as not to let the wiggle of your body loosen his grip.

“Here.” He huffs out, nearing the entrance of the cave.

Immediately immersing himself hip-deep into the water, he moves hastily, submerging you as he makes his way over to the ledge and helps you into position.

The ledge makes a smaller, more shallow pool in the lake, perfect for you to sit in with your back supported by the bank.

Water is up to your chest, slushing and splashing against your neck as you desperately readjust yourself to get comfortable. Your head is perched on the bank of the lake, hands spread across to hold onto the rocky surface. Your toes grip the floor, rooting yourself to the ground to keep you stable, knees bobbing at the water's surface.

“Fuck! Ralak!” You cry out, feeling your body act on its own accord.

Ralak is already in front of you, one hand on your bump as the other slips between your thighs to feel your progression. All while he’s looking down at you with nothing but concern etched into his features, unsure of what more he can do for you without tsaheylu.

He witnesses your face turn red as you hold your breath again, using as much force as you can to push him out.

Ralaks hand moves from your bump to cup your cheek, his fingernails raking away the streaks of sweaty hair plastered to your face and tucking them behind your ear.

“Syeha si, tanhì [breathe].” He reminds you gently, exaggerating a breathing pattern you had rehearsed a few weeks ago, and you try to match his rhythm.

But you’re stuttering and sobbing, unable to establish a pattern and push at the same time. Your back is on fire and it feels as if the baby isn’t moving any further down.

The contraction finally ends with a loud wheeze and your head slumps back into the rocky bank. You shake your head as you struggle to open your heavy lidded eyes.

Your vision is blurry and spotty. You glance down in a haze and lock eyes for a moment with the worried giant before you, and then you feel yet another contraction wash over you. They are on top of one another—back to back—with little to no break between them.

“Fuck. Please. Please. Plea—” You weep weakly, eyes slamming shut as your chin makes contact with your chest, cutting off your pleas with a lengthy, guttural grunt. You push with what you have left, giving yourself a throbbing headache as a result.

“Pushing so, so well.” Ralak praises you with a hushed voice, feeling something press against his fingers.

As you strain, you feel the delirium set in. The panic of not knowing if you’re capable of doing this. Every inch of you more than ached, yet some parts of you have even gone numb from how long this has been going on.

You can barely get a proper breath in much less breathe the way you should when you’re pushing. You feel like your body may give out at any moment.

“Keep going, y/n.” He encourages you, seeing your exhaustion and feeling you stop.

“Ralak…lak.” You let out a sob and try to relax your body, but end up collapsing back into the rocky surface again. “‘m tired, lak.” You mumble shakily between laboured pants, “...want him out.”

“I hear you.” Ralak tries to reassure you, now supporting both your trembling legs as they threaten to give out. “He will soon be out, tanhì. But you have to keep going.”

“No—oh, no, no.” You cry, tensing up from another agonising contraction. You didn’t think they could get any more painful. “No more. No more, please.”

“Come now, big push for me.” Ralak instructs softly, repositioning himself to help deliver his son.

“Ugh—!” You scream, giving all you have left into this push. Beads of sweat roll down your temples at a concerning speed, and your face shifts to an even more vibrant shade of red. “Please! Please get him out of me!”

“He’s coming out, tìyawn. Keep pushing, almost there. Almost there.” Ralaks voice is low and laced with panic, despite his greatest efforts to keep calm and collected.

This cycle repeats for some time, instilling worry into both you and Ralak. You’re having a difficult time, and it’s taxing on your body to keep this going.

Truthfully he can tell that you’re really struggling, and he’s getting a little more worried as time passes. But then he feels the baby press against his fingers and hope fills him once more.

“That’s it. Push just like that, y/n.”

“Fuck—” And just as last time, you collapse back into the bank, depleted with nothing left to give. You begin to think that maybe everything you’ve been hearing was right.

Maybe you can’t do this.

“I…I can’t.” You sputter defeated, letting your legs go limp either side of you.

“Mawey [calm]. You can. Your body is made for this.” He reaffirms for not only you but also himself, he’s too afraid to lose you. No, he can’t lose you, too. He’s experienced too much loss.

“’s not comin’.” You shake your head lethargically, feeling faint. “He’s stuck.”

Hearing that makes his heart sink. Ronal’s words echo in his mind, putting him in a frantic state. He quickly composes himself, probing the tender flesh to help stretch it out. He feels something slimy and silken, and his ears perk up.

He’s right there. So close.

“He’s not. I feel him, he is right there.” Ralak tries to keep calm for you, attempting to reassure you as he quickly thinks about the next best move.

Zu’té isn’t back with the healer and there's not much else he can do. He looks down at you, taking in just how uncomfortable you look as he tries to imagine just how much pain you’re in. With a position like this, no wonder your back hurts. His eyes widen.

No wonder your progression has stalled.

“Move with me. Easy.” Ralak croons, carefully tucking his arm under your back to sit you up slowly. He throws your limp arms around his neck, and brings you to your knees and then your feet—supporting your weight as you get there.

“Lak, Lak!” You grimace and whimper as you try to work with your mate—your body is already so sore and weak that any movement is torturous.

“Need to get you off your back.” Ralak huffs, holding you in position until you’ve adjusted. You hold on to him, arms wrapped tightly around his neck as you settle into a squat. “A few more pushes, mama.”

“Haa—no, no.” You squeal in desperation, feeling his head descend even further down now that gravity has come into play.

Then your belly stiffens.

You bite the flesh of your cheek until you taste blood and bury your face into the dip of his collarbone—refusing the urge to push. But the instinct overrides you completely, leaving you in a panicked and delirious state.

“Take h-him out! Make the cut!”

“No, no cut. No cut.” Ralak utters a throaty whisper, pushing down into your lower back. “Bear down, muntxate [wife].”

“Ple—ase.” Your broken plea comes out as a low grunt as you shake your head frantically, driving your dulled nails into your mate. “It hurts, it hurts!”

“I know, ma’ y/n. But you must bear down, please.” His voice trembles, filled with worry, but his words are firm—non-negotiable. You continue to shake your head, fighting with what you have left, your laboured breathing deepening as you run out of strength to resist.

Ralak’s worry quickly turns into pure panic. Panic that you’ve really given up. Panic that you really may not make it out of this. That…he’ll lose you. He knows what he must do, despite it being against your wishes.

He gives your kuru a quick stroke, his way of warning you. It sends a shiver through you, but the pain is so excruciating that you can’t resist this, too.

Ralak quickly makes tsaheylu, bringing a brief moment of pure, instant relief, just enough to bring you out of your delirium. His wound reopens, burning and weeping. But not even that could prepare him for your pain.

It feels like each vertebrae in his spine instantaneously shifts out of place. It is excruciating. And strange—that urge to push. He can feel it too. It’s like an itch deep under your skin. Irresistible and uncontrollable.

“Push!” Ralak groans loudly, prompting you to bear down with whatever strength you can muster up.

You scream at the top of your lungs, achieving a frequency and volume so high it can be heard from the village. Ralak’s fingers quickly probe the tenderness between your legs to check your progress once more. Finally, he feels the baby’s head begin to emerge.

“Perfect push, tanhì. Keep going, keep going.” Now he’s winded, flustered and speaking breathily.

Your scream is cut off by your vulgar tongue, “Fuck! Fuck—it burns!” You cry out, feeling a bolt of white hot fire split you in two, making you jerk back. “It’s burning!” You sob, trying to wiggle away from the flame.

“He’s crowning. His head, shit—” He huffs, realising that the babe is coming too quickly, not giving you enough time to adjust, “Stop pushing.” His fingers probe the taut skin in attempts to prevent you from possibly tearing, “Breathe him out. Just as we practised.”

Your fingers dig even deeper into him as your head snaps up to shoot him a deadly glare. Wasn’t he just demanding that you push? To ‘listen to your body’?

You take deep, intentional breaths, eyes flicking down to search the cloudy water as you try your hardest to resist. He can feel your frustration through tshayelu, he can hear your thoughts.

“Syeha si, syeha si [Breathe, breathe]. Let yourself adjust. Let your body push for you.” Ralak tries to explain, using the bond to his advantage and using the bond to his advantage.

‘I can’t do it.’ You think to him, unsure if you’re even doing it right.

“You can. You are. Just like that.” Ralak works with you, probing the tender skin once more as he feels the head emerge. “A little longer.”

But yet, you feel yourself giving in.

“Can't. Help. It.” You whimper, your breath stuttering as it catches in your throat. Tears roll relentlessly down your cheeks. You need him out.

Now.

You drop to your knees and tuck your chin to your chest. “Haah!” Your breath finally releases, and a guttural, lengthy grunt follows after.

Ralak feels you push — hard. He readies himself, steadying his stance as he traces his fingers around the circumference of his unborn’s head to help guide him out.

He is, too, looking down into the murky water, trying his best to see what’s going on. All he can do is rely on his sense of touch and the feeling through the bond to help him.

“Ngh—ugh!” You feel a pop between your legs and the pressure minutely releases.

Just then Ralak feels the rest of your baby’s head emerge. He can feel the curls of his silken hair, and how they’re laid flat to his skull. Ralak nearly breaks down right there, but fights the array of emotions bombarding him all at once to recenter his focus back on you.

“His head is out.” He croaks, supporting the babe's head with the palm of his hand. “Hair like yours.”

Ralak gently unlatches your grip on his shoulder and guides your hand under the water and towards his. Aside from wanting you to feel what he’s feeling, he’s hoping that this will give you the strength to keep going.

You feel the sliminess first, and then the soft, velvety texture of your son's head. You weep, slumping your head into Ralak's chest as you focus on gathering as much energy during the small break from the contractions.

It’s incredible to know that your body created this life.

“Oh god…it’s him.” You barely whisper.

“You are so strong, you know that? Mighty.” Ralak hums, cupping the back of your head with his hand. You lift your head to look at him and he rests his forehead against yours, searching your eyes with his. “One more push for me, okay?”

You nod your head, bottom lip curled over to touch your chin. His hand slips from your neck to your cheek, his thumb wiping away one tear of a thousand. The tightening of your stomach has you tensing up, gripping onto him for support. You groan and moan until the contraction reaches its peak, where you begin to grunt and push against the budding pressure.

He steadies himself once more, quickly slipping his hand off your cheek back into the water. He holds your son's head with one hand, and hooks the fingers of his other hand under his son's left shoulder. It pops out with the help of his gentle tug, and you bear down even harder.

“A little more.” He encourages you, waiting patiently to feel his son's right shoulder emerge. He feels the bridge of his shoulder and Ralak jumps into action, carefully guiding his son's shoulder out. “Perfect, there it is.” Ralak mumbles quickly, hyperfocused on ensuring a safe delivery.

You whimper when the burning sensation comes back, shoving your forehead into his chest. It’s hard to breathe. Every fibre in your being has you wanting to hold your breath for more leverage to get him out. Your noises fade to little choked muffles, quick and uneven.

“Breathe.” Ralak chokes out, feeling your burning lungs through tsaheylu. He immediately establishes a somewhat steady breathing pattern for you to sync into.

“Pwah!” You let out a shaky, harsh breath of air, panting as you try to sync with him. “Urgh—ah!” you groan as you push, surprised by how long this torturous contraction is lasting.

“Please get him out of me, please, please.” You whisper into his chest.

“Shoulders are out, tanhì” Ralak huffs next to your ear, tenderly rubbing his cheek against your temple.

“Catch him, Lak.” You wheeze, your legs shaking uncontrollably from carrying your weight for such a long time. He wants so badly to do the rest for you, now really sensing your weariness through the bond. But he couldn’t, all he could do was support you through every second of this.

“I have him, muntxate [wife].” He whispers, lips pressed to your ear. “Last push.”

A hoarse, empty cry evades your trembling lips as you bear down a final time. Suddenly the pressure releases entirely, and you feel your son slip out of you and into Ralaks hands. You let out a loud moan of relief, immediately pulling away from Ralak’s chest to look down into the water.

“He’s out. He’s here, tanhì. You did it, mama. You did it.” Ralaks cracked voice is full of relief. “He—he is so small.”

You fall back onto your behind, breaking tsaheylu with your mate. Your eyes search for your newborn but you can’t make anything out of the murkiness of the water.

You look up to witness tears fill Ralak’s eyes for the first time as he holds the baby underneath the water. Your back hits the rocky bank of the lake in solace knowing your son is in safe hands.

Then Ralak grits his teeth and lets go.

“Lak. Ralak.” Your panicked, hoarse voice calls for him, but you’re too weak to get up. “Ho-Hold him, Ralak.”

Ralak looks like he’s fighting his own instinct to scoop up his young and cradle him in his chest. And that’s because he is. It’s taking everything in him not to do just that, but he knows that this is the way. The right way.

“Mawey [calm]. First breath.” Ralak gently reminds you of the Metkayina ritual. He knows he must do this, especially in the absence of the Tsahik. “Let him swim.”

You watch intently as the water slowly clears, revealing the wiggle of your newborn's body. “Help him.” You plead with trembling lungs, having a hard time watching this unfold.

Ralak stays close to his newborn, ready to jump into action in an instant. But the babe rises to the top all on his own—swimming directly from the womb. You burst into tears, chest swelling with pride and every emotion under the moon.

Nonetheless, Ralak taps his bum softly, his other hand hovering underneath his son's feet in the case he needs to intervene. This is the first moment where your son has made you both proud.

Your son breaks the water with his face, chubby cheeks and puckered lips. You hear the sound of his little, first breath — pwah. His eyes open as he looks around, catching sight of his father scooping him into his arms.

“You did it, my little one.” Ralak whispers with a crack in his voice, shifting his gaze over to you. “You did it. I’m so proud of you.” He repeats in absolute shock and awe, and this time you know he’s talking to you, too.

Ralak holds his son close to his chest and away from his weeping wound, using his body heat to keep him warm as he makes his way over to you. The babe wails when he catches your scent, squirming in his fathers arms as if he were trying to get to you on his own terms.

“She is right here, son.” He whispers, bouncing him a bit as he places him in your arms, helping you hold him for the first time. “Hold his head.”

Your arms feel like jelly and they won’t stop shaking, but you’re eager to hold your newborn. Ralak tucks himself closely at your side, keeping a precautionary hand under your arm. Immediately, he calms, gurgling and cooing as he listens to the familiar and comforting thump of your heart. It’s all he’s heard in the past ten months.

Teary eyed, you look down through blurred vision, taking in the sight of your son. Every feature. Every stripe. Every freckle. His dark turquoise skin, golden eyes, pointed pink ears. A tail like his father, but five fingered, like his mother. He is the perfect mix, the perfect balance.

“You’re perfect.” You whisper, admiring his little coos and floppy, soft ears that lay flat against him. His head turns towards your bosom, puckered lips brushing against your top in search of your nipple. “Hungry? Hm?” You hum shakily.

Ralak is quick to help you, helping you position him just right. Your son shakes his head as he tries to latch for the first time, and both you and Ralak watch quietly with wobbly smiles plastered on your faces.

With two fingers, Ralak presses down onto your breast, angling your nipple in a way that makes it easier for you and him. You can’t help the grimace on your face when he does latch and suckle, but it quickly turns into a smile as you watch him feed for the first time.

“Rak’äni.” Ralak proudly announces the name of his first born son.

You look up at him, witnessing a tear or two roll down his cheek. You’d never seen this giant cry like this before. The past two days have been too much.

“Rak’äni.” You repeat with a smile, Ralaks eyes finally meeting yours. He leans in and meets your lips with his, kissing you tenderly. He lingers there forehead to forehead as he pulls away, allowing himself to be vulnerable—to soak in his emotions.

“I love you. I see you, y/n. For life. And beyond.” Ralak sheds a few more tears as he speaks the words.

“Nìt’iluke [neverendingly; forever].” You say wearily, heavy lidded eyes struggling to stay open.

Snap.

Ralak hears the sound of a branch breaking underneath the weight of a person's foot. Ralak looks behind him, hand under the water clutching the dagger on his hip, ready to protect his family. He sees the silhouette of a woman standing at the opening of the cave, basket on her hip as the last rays of sun shine through her.

The first eclipse is starting.

Is that how long this has gone on for?

His heart skips a beat as his eyes narrow to see who it is…to see if it’s how he suspects it may be. Did she really follow us?

He then sees a taller figure emerge behind her, then another, and another…and another. And soon he counts seven heads in total and it dawns on him.

It’s your family—and his.

“We have visitors, little one.” Ralak coos quietly at his baby, his thumb just barely gliding over his cheek. “Are you alright, mama?” His voice sounds muffled and distant, as if he were at the other side of the lake. “The healer is here.”

“Tired...Hurts.” You mumble, letting your eyes fall shut.

You feel Ralak’s gentle touch as he tucks himself behind you, supporting you with his body. His arm is under yours, keeping the babe safely above water as he feeds. You can fully relax your body now, sinking into your mate’s pillowy chest.

“Rest.” Ralak whispers. “I have you.”

“You won’t believe, brother. The tshahik is also in labour. And I couldn’t find you…I heard y/n scream and—oh…” Zu’té lowers his voice to a whisper, catching sight of the freshly born babe in your arms. “Tak. He’s here.” His voice falters even more as he nears his blood.

His only family outside of Ralak. He’s awestruck, taking in all the different features of a new kind as he feeds. The babe's skin resembles the depth of his mother, but the tone of his father. Stripes like an omaticaya. Tail like a Metkayina. Five-fingered.

Truthfully, the length of his stare has Ralak feeling a little uneasy and a bit protective.

“Toto.” Ralak hasn’t called him that in years, “Meet your nephew—Rak’äni.”

“Rak’äni.” Zu’té repeats through a whisper, keeping his distance from the babe. “Fyole [beyond perfection].”

Ralak relaxes, smiling proudly. “He is.”

Zu’té fumbles with a small satchel on his hip, taking something out of it in a haste. He hands Ralak something small, something delicate. It's weaved to perfection, with colours of the sunset.

"For him." Zu’té says in a hushed voice, unfolding the garment to show his brother. It's a hat, an entirely new concept to the Metkayina. Ralak looks at him, a little confused, eyes bouncing between the strangely shaped item and his brother. "For the child's head."

Ralak smiles, his furrowed brows relaxing when he understands. Zu’té raises his brows and gently nudges it closer to the babe in your arms. Ralak nods, watching as Zu’té slips it on his head as gently as he can.

"Toto, that is very kind—"

"Don't flatter yourself." Zu’té cuts his brother short, pulling back to see the finished result of his hard work. It fits perfectly. "I had plenty of time."

Zu’té steps back, giving you two some space.

A sudden splash of the water makes Ralak jolt in his skin, but he calms down once he realises that it’s the healer situating herself next to you so she can tend to you. He isn’t all here right now, either.

“You did well, sa’nu.” You recognize her voice and strain to open your eyes, vaguely seeing her features.

She was at all your lessons with Ronal. The only one who didn’t look at you like some sort of alien. The only one who treated you with respect.

“All on your own. You need to be strong for a little while longer, alright? This may hurt.”

She begins gently massaging your abdomen under the water—a step that is empirical for healing. You clench your jaw and squeeze your eyes shut, shoving your head back into Ralak, who is visibly trying to withhold his look of displeasure.

“I get that look quite a bit. It’ll be over soon, sempu.”

You look down with foggy vision and see the hat on your baby's head. Immediately, you know who made it. You turn your head, looking directly at Zu’té and smile, mouthing 'thank you'. Zu’té returns the smile with a slight nod, remaining silent.

A high-pitched, excited voice has both you and Ralak turning your heads to see your little sister.

“Woah! Mama, look!” Tuk exclaims, tugging Neytiri by the hand to get a closer look.

“Shh, Tuk. He is asleep.” Neytiri hushes her youngest, nuzzling her into her side. The others stay quiet as they approach, crouching down at the bank of the lake to look at their new family member.

“I am so proud of you, my daughter. He looks like you.” Neytiri whispers, raking her fingers through your knotted hair.

You exhale a shaky breath and smile weakly, leaning into your mothers comforting touch.

Jake looks down at the suckling babe in your arm, eyes burning as they gloss over with tears. “You did it, babygirl.”

Hearing your fathers words after so many years of feeling like a failure, you can’t help the sob you sputter out.

“D-Daddy.” You cry shakily, breath hitching. “It was s-so h-hard.”

“I know, baby. I know. But you did it. ” He coos at his own baby, rubbing your shoulder as he looks over to Ralak. “You both did.” He smiles with his son-in-law, cupping the back of his head with his other hand.

Neteyam and Lo’ak wait patiently at the back, not wanting to crowd you. Neteyam is particularly worried for you, he’s been beating himself up for not checking on you when he knew deep in his gut that he should have.

Lo’ak is… nervous, despite his big talk about being the best uncle. Your parents pull back, allowing some space for you, Ralak and the healer.

“Guys.” You sniffle, craning your neck to look at them. “C-Come see your nephew.”

They approach cautiously and kneel down next to you and Ralak. Neteyam smiles, golden eyes quivering as he takes in his features.

“It’s uncle teytey.” Neteyam takes his nephew's tiny hand, his thumb grazing over his five fingers. Then Neteyam looks at you, his expression going from bright to glum. “I’m sorry I didn’t check on you.”

You shake your head and smile, barely keeping your eyes open. “Don’t be.”

“Y/n. I—” To your surprise, Lo’ak is speechless. “He is beautiful.”

“Thank you, uncle Lo’ Lo’.” You smile with another sniffle, using that god-damned nickname he wouldn’t let up on.

Lo'ak returns the smile, hearing it fall from your quivering lips makes his heart full. You finally lean back against Ralak's chest, allowing your eyes to close, heavy and swollen from all your shed tears of joy and pain.

You feel the healer’s hands leave your stomach and make their way to your chest where she ensures the babe has latched properly. “Perfect latch. You are a natural, y/n.”

You smile wobbly at her words, feeling extra proud of yourself.

“I will leave the medicines here, ensure she takes them on time.” She’s speaking to Ralak, who is also in a daze, gazing down at his son. “I will come and check on her tonight. Until then, she needs to rest. No heavy lifting.”

Ralak finally averts his attention to the healer, a smile on his lips as he nods. He’d never let you lift a finger, anyways.

“Ralak, your wound is open.” Neytiri speaks with concern in her voice.

The healer looks down to see his mangled laceration. “Eywa…Now, this will hurt.” Her eyes go wide and she immediately gets her things to sew him back up. Neteyam and Lo’ak look at the bleeding gash with wide eyes. Jake grimaces.

“D-Does that hurt?” Tuk asks shyly, peeking out from behind Neytiri to see.

Ralak shakes his head with a smile, too overjoyed with the safe delivery of his first born son to even notice anymore.

“No pain. Only happiness.” Ralak says softly, accent heavy on his tongue as he looks back down at his now stirring babe.

715 notes · View notes

cherry-leclerc · 1 year

Text

ruined all my plans ☆ cl16

genre: wolff!reader, secret relationship, humor, enemies to lovers (?? depends how you see it ??), forbidden romance

word count: 6.4k

Toto creates a “hands off” rule over his daughter for all the drivers on the grid. Too late, as it appears Charles might’ve already weasled his way into your heart a long time ago.

Plot line of schematization that runs along George, Carmen, Lily and Alex to figure out who you’re busy hooking up with. All bets are on.

nsfw warning under the cut!

18+...pentrative sex (f and m), biting

inspired by this and this !

One could argue and say that you’re old enough to make your own decisions, and while everyone around you might see that as true, there’s only one person who would disagree.

“I’m being serious.” Your dad walks away without further comment. Chasing after him like a little girl, you find it almost impossible to keep up with him and his long strides. You pant.

“Why would any of this cause an issue?”

Toto comes to a sudden stop as you bump into his back. You let out a slight umph before putting on your brave face. His heels turn as he looks down at you. “Because I said so.” Leaning down he plants a kiss on your forehead before walking away. You scoff as you click your tongue.

Both your dad and yourself had decided it would be a fun idea if you tagged along for some races of the new F1 season since you haven’t for quite a while, but the moment he noticed the way the grid grew nervous, flirtatious, and some even with tongues hanging out, he regretted it.

You had been bickering back and forth when he broke the news to you that you would be flying back home as soon as possible. If teleportation existed I would’ve already sent your ass away, he stated earlier as you glared angrily.

“You know this isn’t a proper excuse to just send me away. I’ve behaved! Not once have I responded to any of the driver's advances.” He knows you’re right, but he ignores you anyway. Susie had always pointed out how his stubbornness always had her fuming and in this moment, in you, he noticed just how annoying it could get.

“I don’t care! If this is something I have to do in order for my daughter to stop being gawked at by every driver, so be it. Now, stop yapping and start packing.”

That was the last straw.

As he walks out of the Mercedes garage to make his way to his drivers he hears fast footsteps. Throwing yourself onto his large back you cling on as if he was a floatie.

“Let go!” He stumbles back and forth as you cover his eyes. Then your arms slide around his large shoulders, squeezing hard. “You're acting like a child!”

“Stop treating me like one then!” This was a bit much, you’ll admit it, but never out loud. You pinch his bicep and he yelps, running like a chicken without a head. You screech as you hold on tighter, head digging into his neck.

“This isn’t going to make me change my mi-” You bite his ear. He tries to push your legs that wrap around his torso, but you just won’t budge. He spins as he groans in pain. He knew you hated to be dizzy, so why not use it against you.

“Cute. Father-daughter quality time.” Lewis smiles as George takes his phone out to record. Toto looks at them with a bright red face.

“Fuck quality time! Get. Her. Off.”

Scurrying over, they each grab a leg. “Let go!” You yell as you turn to look at them, breathing hard.

“Exactly! Let go!” Toto continues to pry your hands off.

Everyone has gathered outside of their garages as they watch in amusement. Carlos bends over laughing.

“She looks like fun, no?”

Taking a sip of water, Charles shakes his head.

“That chicks crazy.”

You, Lewis, and George sit in the Mercedes meeting room silently waiting for Toto. Rocking in his chair impatiently, George grins. “Do you guys want to see the video I took?”

You glare harshly. “My dads not here yet, you wanna be next?” He shuts up as he slides his phone back into his pocket.

A minute passes by before your dad walks in with Avengers stickers covering his ear, hand, and neck. You all stifle a laugh. “You think this is funny?” You nod. His cold stare turns into the kind you’ve only seen the times he’s grounded you.

“You asked!”

He shakes his head in disapproval. “These are Jack’s, so I don’t even want to hear it.” Sliding a chair out in front of you three, he takes a seat. “We need to talk.”

You roll your eyes. “Really? I thought we were all gonna learn how to fly.” George lets out a laugh as Lewis nudges your thigh. Just listen, his gaze warns you.

Toto folds his arms against the tables as he lets out a breath. “I won’t send you home.” Not what you were expecting. Hopping over to him you kiss his cheek as he slightly flinches.

“Thank you, Daddy!”

George raises an eyebrow. “Seriously? If I would ever behave like this with my parents they would ship me to boarding school.” You bite the air.

“Sit down.” You rush back into your seat between the Mercedes drivers. Drumming his fingers against the table he begins. “But I have some rules. Call them…my conditions.” You groan.

“That’s not how this works-”

“No, it’s going to work because I said so!” He takes a moment to relax before continuing. “Look, I spoke to your mother and you were right. I was being unfair.” You clap your hands in delight. “That doesn’t mean what you did was right. But here’s all I ask from you, the same thing as always; don’t date any drivers on the grid.”

You nod profusely. “I promise!” There were some good looking men on the grid, but quite frankly you never found interest. You knew what you’d be getting yourself into if you ever did.

Lewis clears his throat. “This has been super nice and all, but why are we here?” He signals between him and his teammate.

“Right.” Standing up, Toto places both his hands on his waist. “I won’t ask for much.” Turning to look at them he says, “Just ask for you both to watch over her.”

“Like Jesus?”

“George, shut up!” You follow Toto. “Dad, I don’t need them to babysit me. What’s the whole point of not being treated like a baby?”

“That’s what you don’t seize to understand. You are my baby.” He cups your face tenderly. “Those are my circumstances if you want to stick around.” He lets go. “And either way, you said it yourself. You don’t pay much attention to them, so why would this be any different?”

“Fine. Deal.”

“Where are you headed?”

Miami was always a fun place to be at and you wanted to have some fun. Wasn’t this the point of it all?

“I’m just going for a walk around the paddock.”

Lewis stands up like a guard dog as he slides on his sunglasses. “You know what? I’m kind of in the mood for a walk too. Always a good time to show off my outfit.”

Rolling your eyes you reluctantly agree. He’s telling you about Roscoe’s recent “girlfriend” as you both pass the Red Bull garage. Paparazzi stand outside as they wait for any glimpse of Max, but as soon as they see Lewis they immediately rush over. Almost like a force of nature, Lewis coolly poses as he continues walking smoothly.

“Yeah, I can’t do this right now.” Taking advantage of the situation, you dart off.

“Whatever,” Lewis yells out as he continues, entertained by the cameras.

Rushing behind a nearby wall you gasp for air. “Are you okay?”

“Crap!” You fling your hand outwards as you smack someone's hard chest. You look at your fist as you recognize the dark blue fireproofs.

“Ow!” Max yelps as he pushes your arm down. You cringe.

“Sorry! I just thought- nevermind. Are you alright?” He nods.

“Yes. Were you looking for someone?” You notice that in an attempt to get away from the mob you had landed yourself inside the garage of Mercedes’ main rival. You shake your head.

“God, no. I’m sorry, I wasn’t paying attention.” You hum embarrassingly. “I should go now.”

“Hey, I mean you can hide out here with me for a while.”

The way he smiles shyly takes you back to the day he first asked you out. He was nice, but no. You can’t. Tugging out your phone from your back pocket you giggle nervously. “Oh! Would you look at that! It’s my dad calling. I should go before he starts to worry. Bye Max!” You zoom out.

“Yeah, bye…”

“Where were you?” Toto is sitting in the small room he had set up for you when you were on the road with him and the team.

“I went out for a walk.” That wasn’t completely a lie, but if he found out who you were with he would only start World War III. “Wanted to stretch out my legs.” You kick your legs out as you hop up a few times.

He holds out an envelope as you delicately reach out for it. Opening it up you see what’s inside. Pictures of you with Lewis, but as you continue flipping through you see yourself slipping away. It would almost be funny if it weren’t for Toto’s narrowed look. “Where did you run off to?”

“First of all, this is extremely creepy, zero privacy, but nowhere! I came straight back, you know I can’t handle large groups like those.”

Rising up he nods. “If you say so.”

You take a seat next to your dad as you both analyze the race. The Red Bulls are fast, as expected, but Mercedes wasn’t that far off. They might actually get podium if the strategy continued the same.

“C’mon. C’mon.” It was the final lap and George was fighting for third against Fernando. Anxiety filled up your stomach, you could only imagine what George was feeling. “Goddamn it!” You and Toto both curse out as you both slam the headset against the table.

“Every single time.”

You congratulate Lewis and George as they walk in after being weighted. “You guys did good.” You smile as they wipe off their sweat with a small towel.

“Ah, I need a drink. Wanna come out with Carmen and I to the club? A couple other drivers are tagging along.”

“Yes! Okay, just me a second to go back to the hotel and change.” As you run away, Toto strolls over. George gulps.

“Remember…” He warns him as the Brit carefully nods. Of course. You don’t need to worry.

You show up 2 hours late, but it's Miami. The later the better.

“That group right there! I swear I know them.” You had been trying to explain to the security guard that you weren’t some crazy fan and that you did in fact know the group of F1 drivers who had shown up to the VIP section.

“Right and I know Oprah Winfrey…” You furrow your brows. Are you calling me a liar? He shrugs. Just then, Charles walks by and you immediately jump forward, but the guard holds you back.

“Charles!” He turns to look at you as he tries to understand the situation. You’re being held back by the guard as you screech in his arms. He rolls his eyes.

“Yeah, no.” He walks away. Coward! Your body droops into his arms. The tall man drags you out. I swear I know himmmm.

“Yo, is that chick dead?” Your eyes pop open as you hear a familiar voice.

“Daniel! Ah. Thank God! Tell him you know me!” Daniel lets out a loud laugh as he claps his hands in amusement.

“Oh God, this is amazing.” He hurries over to you both. “Yes, I know her.” The bald man looks like he doesn’t quite believe you, but he lets you go either way. Walking side by side you pat the Australians shoulder.

“Thank you so much. You won’t believe how long it’s taken me to try and wheeze myself in.” He grins.

“No problem.” He lets you through first as Carmen rushes over.

“Oh good! I thought you weren’t going to show up.”

“Ran into a bit of trouble, but there’s no way I would’ve missed out on Georgie’s almost win celebration.” George scowls. Bitch, he mutters under his breath. Carmen smacks his head.

Excusing yourself you walk over to the bar as you order yourself a drink. You don’t have to turn to know someone is now standing next to you. You immediately noticed the stack of bracelets. “Hey, dick, what was that all about?’ Charles sighs.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You ignored me! You let them drag me away like a beast!”

He snickers. “You said it, not me.” Slamming your palm against the table you make his drink jump up a bit.

“You are a real piece of shit, y’know that?”

“And you aren’t?”

You toss your head back with a cold laugh before you glare back at him.

“I can’t believe I ever dated you.”

There was a time - where you’re embarrassed to admit now - that you actually fell for a driver's charm.

“Charles,” he introduces himself, as you kick your shoe against your leg nervously. For a while you tried to push away, but somehow, something always led you back to him.

Skipping your way down the paddock you make your way towards the taco stand. Rumors had made their way to you that Scuderia had authentic tacos in honor of the Mexican GP and you just had to go.

The line was long, but you didn’t seem to mind as you answered a few texts.

“Hungry?”

You blush when you notice Charles with his fireproofs. Glistening sweat makes his brown hair connect to his face. He looks so filt-

“Just a tiny bit.” He could’ve easily made his way to the staff to request your plate much faster, but then how else would he talk to you? For an entire hour, his towering height lingered over you as you both stood under the blazing sun. And he was just as perfect as you could have ever imagined. It wasn’t that long after that you both were sneaking in kisses behind Ferrari’ and Mercedes’ motorhome.

“Fuck.” He kisses you hard as his hands slip underneath your shirt. His cold touch makes you shiver as your body jumps up a bit. This causes you to rub yourself against him. He pulls away, eyes screwed shut.

“What’s wrong? Did I do something?”

He shakes his head as he stares down at you with an enamored smile tugging at his pink, swollen lips. “No, it's just that…” You look down at the tent poking through his jeans.

“I could fix that.” Your flirtatious tone is enough for him to fall back against your warm lips. He groans.

“N-no. Not here.” You had both been taking shelter behind the Mercedes garage in order to not be caught, but still, this was risky. You sigh as your arms drop to your sides.

“You’re right.” He gives you one last peck as he rushes off to his media duties. Walking through the sliding doors the first person you see is George signing a few hats. He looks up.

“My word, did someone punch your lips?” You rush over to a nearby mirror as you take in your appearance. Your lipstick was everywhere. Bring up your sleeve, you quickly try brushing away.

“Not a word of this to my dad.”

And no he never told Toto, but he knew he couldn’t hold onto this by himself.

“...It has to be someone on the grid. But who…” Carmen, George, Lily, and Alex had gone out on a double date when the Brit spilled the beans.

“What if it’s Max? Have you seen the way he looks at her!” Lily exclaims as she purses her lips. Alex shakes his head in disagreement.

“No. It definitely has to be Carlos. I mean look at him! That’s straight up her type.” Oh. I didn’t even think of that one, Lily pouts.

“You both got it wrong, it’s Lando. They get along so well, plus, they would look so cute together.” Carmen swoons at the image. George pretends to gag.

“Darling…friends… let me explain.” They all sit there eager for the next candidate. “It’s definitely Lewis.” The table dies.

“Mate! You’re insane. He’s old enough to be her dad!” Alex cripples over laughing as he leans his head against his girlfriend's shoulder. She pats his head.

“He’s right, George. It just doesn’t make any sense.”

Whatever, he thinks to himself. It might be him.

“I lost her! Shit, I lost her!” George panics to his girlfriend as she stares up in confusion. What do you mean you lost her! He cringes. “As in; she's gone! And I keep calling Lewis and he’s not picking up and- oh.”

Carmen’s eyes grow wide. “You don’t think…” George laughs wickedly.

“I told you so! Wait until I tell Alex. Alex!” She slaps her hand over his mouth.

“Are you crazy? You can’t just go around claiming this when it might not even be true!” He immediately deflates. You’re right, you’re right-

“Either way, Lando’s missing too.” She giggles as he stares with a deadpan expression.

“Shit!” Charles hisses in pain as he bangs his head against the wall. You let out a sweet laugh.

“Be careful. Also, be quiet!”

You were supposed to be meeting with Toto to go grab dinner with the team and Charles had a last minute defrief to get to, but there was something far more important.

You were both horny.

“Mhmm,” he mumbles as he slips you onto the counter that sits in the privacy of his motorhome. Scrunching your mini dress around your thighs he gets down on his knees as he drags your panties down with his teeth, a teasing look painting his eyes. You bite down on your erupting moan.

“As much as I love this, I need you to be fast.” He chuckles as he stands up to his full height, slipping his suit down as his cock springs out, looking painfully hard. You lick your lips. His strong hands grab your hips to scoot you closer towards him. You giggle as he pecks your lips one final time before slipping inside of you.

Normally, you moan as loud as you please, but you know you can’t right now. So, you bite the inside of your cheek as he begins thrusting in the most delicious way. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as you softly pant.

“That’s a good girl,” he murmurs. He knows how much you love to be vocal and seeing you trying not to be in order to not get caught has him downright impressed. His hips pick up the pace as you silently whine. His cock brushes against your g-spot and that has you feeling as if you’re going to burst. Slow down, Charles, you moan. He cocks his head to the side. “Sois une bonne fille et prends-le.”

Nodding frantically your hand squeezes against his forearm for support.

“Charles are you almost done changing?” Carlos taps his fingers against the door as he waits for his teammate. Trepidation fills you at the thought of Carlos walking in on you. You had both been keeping this a secret and this was definitely not the way you wanted someone to find out about your relationship.

“Charles, s-stop,” you whisper, but this only seems to make Charles snap his hips faster. You want to scream when you feel his cock all the way deep inside your stomach. He suppresses a loud groan.

“Just a minute! Go on without me.” You hear a low, Just don’t take too long. Footsteps grow further as the Spaniard struts away. You sigh but that’s quickly replaced when your boyfriend tosses your left leg over his tan shoulder.

“Oh my God.” Eyes are looking straight at Charles as he admires the way his cock disappears inside of you. The thought makes you blush. He softly kisses your ankle as you moan louder, you feel your tummy grow tighter. “Charles, oh God, I’m gonna cum-”

He covers your mouth, muffled cries vibrating against his hand as he feels you clench around him. The warmness that splatters around his cock makes him bite your ankle as he finishes inside of you. You squirm in pain.

Panting, he lets go of your leg and kisses your temple. “Sorry. Did I hurt you?” You shake your head.

“I’m okay.” Seeing your fucked out state has him glowing with pride that your his and that only he gets to see you like this. He gives you one last kiss as he pulls out of you. You choke at the slight sensitivity. Sorry, he mumbles as he cleans you up.

You both go your separate ways as it dawns on you that you feel so…complete. It’s a weird feeling to have, but as soon as you remind yourself that this is Charles - your Charles - you don’t feel so lost anymore. Grinning, you walk towards your dad.

“You took forever,” he scolds you before letting out a soft smile, kissing the top of your head. He takes a whiff. “Did you run here?”

“Um, why do you ask?”

He stares at you like a hawk before rubbing his eyes. “No reason. You’re just sweating a bit, that's all. Anyways, we should get going.”

That same day you quickly disappear to a nearby shop to buy a cheap perfume.

“Mmm. Flowers.” Lewis sniffs as he walks past you.

“Are you serious?” Lily and Alex grew suspicious when they saw Carmen and George huddling up together like two detectives, so eventually, they went to investigate themselves. “Have you tried calling her?”

“Goodness! How did I not think about that?” Lily and Carmen shoot a dry look at the Brit before he shrinks down onto his seat.

“Stop fighting and let’s just think,” Alex interrupts.

Lily’s eyes roam the club as she see’s Checo and Lance talking. Daniel is with Fernando, but wait-

Excited, she turns back to the group. “Max! It’s Max!” She jumps up and down as Alex stares at her in love.

“Sweet, sweet, Lilyicious, you’re wrong. C’mon we’ve talked about this.” She stomps her foot.

“Nu-uh. Look around with your big head.” She points around the club. “Max is missing. It makes sense.”

“Okay, well Carlos is missing too, how do you explain that?” The couple huff in defeat as they plop down next to George.

“Well this isn’t working. All our best bets are missing and so is she!” Carmen chugs down an entire glass of vodka as the three of them stare up at her scared. “We’re just going to have to look for her ourselves.”

Wanna come over to my room? Fifth floor, #254.

Butterflies fill you to the brim. On my way.

It’s a personal record, really, the way you dash to his room. Part of you thinks about waiting a couple of minutes before knocking, but you know can’t stay away for long. Closed fist almost reaches the wood as the door swings open. Charles stands there with a pair of workout shorts and white socks. Maroon bruises cover his chest from a few nights ago.

Walking towards him you brush your fingers against his chest. “I like where this is going,” you joke as he smiles, kicking the door shut.

The way he kisses you is different. The type of kiss where someone is really trying to memorize the person. It’s still amazing, but why does it feel any different from the rest? You dig your lips deeper as if this would help you figure it out. His hands move to play with your hair as he pulls away. His fingers feel nice. “Let’s sit.”

Once you settle onto his comfy bed you stare at him in awe. How is it that he ever paid you any attention? He could have anyone, but he chose you? That must count for something. “I was thinking maybe now's a good time to let everyone know we’re together.”

He clenches his jaw. “I don’t know…”

You tuck your legs under your butt as you lean a bit forward. “Okay, maybe you’re right. Let’s start off slow. Maybe just our friends?” Taking one look at him makes you feel like an anthill. “Or what do you think?”

Taking in a shallow breath he doesn’t look at you when he says, “I want to break up.” You stop breathing.

He doesn’t say I think we should break up or there’s something wrong. No, he just jumps straight to the point. No explanation.

But you need one.

“I’m sorry, what did you say?” This time he looks at you and his eyes don’t hold the same shine they normally do. The kind you love on him. Now they’re dark and empty. Did I do that?

“It’s just that…” He trails off when he notices you looking at him as if he’s really about to try to save your relationship. “...I need to focus on the Championship.”

You bite your lip as you try reaching out for his hands, but when he slightly pulls away before you even can, it makes you shrink. Settling your hand on your lap you let out a shaky breath before pretending to smile. “Of course. I get that. I can give you some space.”

He shakes his head, eyes looking down to his feet. “No. I just can’t be dating you right now.” When you were 7 and your dad accidentally stepped over your favorite tea cup you had claimed that was the worst pain you have ever felt.

Nothing would beat Charles’ words.

“Me? You can’t be dating me right now, okay.” You start putting your shoes back on and he stares at you with an open mouth.

Stay. I never meant any of this.

But it was too late.

Entering the elevator you’re sobbing, feeling like a nobody. What did you do wrong? Everything was going great. The doors slid open as the last person you wanted to see, apart from Charles, walked in.

“Honey, are you okay?” Toto frantically searches for any cuts or anything that might be causing you pain. Surface level, you want to cry out. You’re looking surface level, but you won’t find anything.

Tying your arms around his waist he immediately hugs you back, trying to understand.

“Daddy, I want to go home.”

“That’s it. I’m calling him.” The Brit pulls out his phone before his friend yanks it away.

“Do you want to lose your job?” Quickly, he shakes his head. Alex tsks. “But we’ve looked everywhere! God, I’m gonna get fired regardless…”

“Bathroooooom. I need to go to the bathroommm.” A body sways, bumping into Lily, sending her flying towards Carmen.

“Watch where you’re going dickhe- oh! Max!” The Dutch man squints his eyes. Do I know you?

“Don’t bother, he’s completely wasted,” Daniel says as he brushes past the group. But George is desperate. Shaking him by the shoulders, he questions Max.

“Have you seen her? Was she with you?”

Max lazily puts a finger over George’ lips. He sighs at the silence. “Much better…no. I haven’t.” They all groan. Letting go, Max zigzags away.

“So, it’s not Max.”

I was homesick. That’s all.

Your mom raises an eyebrow. “But you love traveling, this is new.” You shrug lamely.

“I just really missed you and Jack.” You both look over to your little brother where he silently sits there entertained with his coloring book.

“No you didn’t.” You laugh as Susie stands up to brush your hair. “Honey, what actually happened?”

A weak smile forms itself onto your lips. “Nothing I can’t handle.”

“Should we call the police?”

Lily exhales, rubbing her fingers against her lap nervously. “No. I still think we can find her.”

Alex nods. “Try calling Lewis again.” A disgusted look maps itself on George’ face.

“Gross. No, what if they’re hooking up?” They all groan.

That’s definitely not true at all, Carmen mumbles. “I still say it’s Lando.” Daniel is passing by with a feathered boa. “Danny!” she shrieks. His pearly whites make her smile. “Do you know where Lando is?” Daniel looks up at the ceiling before clicking his fingers.

“I last with him with baby Wolff!” Carmen jumps up in excitement.

“See George I told you! I told you so! Eat and-”

“...Oh no nevermind that wasn’t him. It was…oh. Who was it?” He covers his face with the boa as he thinks about it.

“Hand that over. I’m about to kill myself.” The group turns to face Lando. His face is flushed as he strips the boa from his teammate. Daniel lets out a sore cough as Lando pulls it off him, but the Australian had it wrapped around his neck. Sorry mate, he apologizes.

George rushes over to the younger Brit. “Where were you?”

“I’m okay,” Daniel croaks out as he takes a sip of Lily’s drink.

“I was trying to get a girl's number.” Carmen’s eyes shine. “Word of advice: always make sure they’re not married.” He walks away.

“Dammit. I was almost sure it was going to be him."

“Please, don’t hang up!”

His voice is raspy from the cold as you lie warm in your bed. You can already smell your favorite homemade pancakes your mom always makes for you when you’re feeling down.

“Tough, because as you can see, I just don’t want to talk to you.” You’re about to hang up before he shoots out a quick, Too late. I’m downstairs.

Now, you’re definitely awake. You quickly try to make yourself seem presentable before you rush downstairs. And he was there, sitting with Susie as they both ate your favorite pancakes.

You stand there with your matching PJ’s and one white tube sock. Charles smiles fondly as you blush.

“You forgot your other sock…” Jack tugs at your shirt to gain your attention as he holds his arm out.

“Thank you, baby.” You quickly slip it on.

Susie walks to Jack as she picks him up. “Let’s go, Jackie. This is what we call privacy.” As they both walk down the hallway you can still hear her say, Do you know what privacy is?

“Is she…”

You stare at him blankly. “She’s teaching him how to respect others.” A distant smile. “Holy shit! Wait! Maybe she can teach you.” He winces.

“Look, I just want to talk. Please…” You take a seat across from him as you snatch his plate away and begin to eat.

“I’m only listening because there’s a really delicious plate right in front of me, but you only have 5 minutes, then I want you to leave.” He nods desperately.

“So, um, that night…”

You can’t help the shaky breath that slips past your lips. You hate that he’s getting to you, because it's not what he deserves. You stubbornly would have bought yourself a diamond ring if you had known he would be here.

“...That night. I never meant anything that I said.” The way you want to laugh has him hurrying to get all his words out. “The media, all the stress, was getting crazy and I was a fool to let that get to me.”

“Are you just word vomiting?” He chuckles.

“This is me telling you that I messed up. I screwed up. I fucked up. Whatever you wanna call it, but you don’t know how much I regret that day. How cold I was being to you.”

“You didn’t even try. You never even let me help you,” you whisper as he shakes his head. I know amour, I know.

He grabs your hands. Soft and warm and his. “If you need me to beg, I’ll beg…But please. Give me one more chance.”

Looking deep into his eyes you slowly nod, almost as if you can’t believe this is really happening.

“One more chance.”

“If we’re being quite honest, I never thought it would just be you and me, George.” The two best friends share a high five.

“I can’t even believe it. One of us might actually have it in the bag!” Carmen and Lily scoff at their boyfriends.

“Let me remind you that she’s still missing, dork.” Lily smirks as George snaps out of it.

“You’re right, but we’re getting closer.”

Standing behind Lily, Alex wraps his arms around her shoulders. Despite everything going on around them, Lily still leans in. “Babe,” he starts. “You might actually have a winner in your han- fuck!” His girlfriend jumps up.

“What!”

“Hey, have you guys seen Charles?” Carlos stands there with a puzzled look as Alex curses him out. I bet my money on you! He slaps a 100 dollar bill to George as he does a small celebratory dance with Carmen.

Lily steps aside. “We haven’t, but I think I remember him being with Pierre and Kika. They were talking about - nevermind - that’s not what matters here!”

Carlos hums. “Okayyy then. Just let me know if you do. He’s my ride back.” He walks away.

“Well, well, well,” George clicks his tongue, tall frame leaning against the table. “And then there was one.”

“Are you both sure?”

Things had taken a sharp turn that it even had you questioning your sanity.

“We’re sure.” You gaze at the bright rock that sits on your finger as Charles rubs soft circles on your hand. You mom sighs, but deep down she’s proud of both of you. Overcoming past mistakes together is a huge deal when it comes to marriage. Jack giggles as you flash your ring up. Charles smiles and Susie can tell by his dazzling green eyes.

The Monegasque is in love.

“You can’t tell dad yet, though!” you yelp as your mom stares back with an open mouth.

Why not?, she says at the same time Charles asks, She can’t?

Shaking your head you kiss your fiance's cheek before facing your mom. “It’s just that he wouldn’t understand. At least not yet. Right?”

Charles nods slowly, not fully seeing where this was going. “Whatever you say, mon amour.” Susie winks in approval. Charles feels quite proud of that one.

“I’ll respect your choice,” she says loudly as Jack chirps up. He nods as he keeps quiet. “Right, I’ll respect it, but you have to find a way to let him know soon enough.” Getting up, you hug her tightly.

“Thank you! And yes I have a plan. Top tier. He won’t even see it coming.”

“Now it makes sense why they’re so close! All those late night drives, breakfasts in the morning. No wonder I wasn’t invited for a few of those!”

“Yeah. That’s why,” Alex shoots as he snickers. Carmen softly pats her boyfriend's shoulder as she lets out a playfully grimace. George flips him off.

“You’re just mad because I actually got something right for once!”

“You said it. For once.”

“Oh, you bi-”

“Huh? Huh! Speak louder you gira–”

“Guys!”

Cut short from their heated argument they all turn their attention.

Lewis stands there with a worried expression. His facial lines noticeable as he pinches his face in slight fear. “I’ve been looking everywhere, but I can’t find her. Oh, God, Toto’s gonna kill me…”

George has his fist wrapped around Alex’s collar as he stares with his mouth hung open. Alex laughs as he pushes George off.

“Aha! I knew it! There was just no way!” George groans as he tugs at his floppy hair.

Lewis looks lost. “I don’t have time for this, have you seen her?” They all shake their head as they explain their theory that involved the 7x World Champion. He shudders.

“Gross! She’s like a daughter to me!”

“Thank you!” Carmen, Lily, and Alex shout as George shrugs.

“Okay, so let’s backtrack: She couldn’t have been with Max because poor boy is too drunk to even remember his own name, she wasn’t with Lando since he’s too busy hiding from someone’s husband-”

George and Alex giggle.

“She definitely wasn’t with you,” Lily points to Lewis as if it were impossible for you and him to be in the same sentence. Way to rub it in, he pouts. She shrugs her shoulders as an apology. “And she wasn’t with Carlos because he’s too busy looking for…”

Their eyes grow wide.

“Jesus fucking Christ, where is the bathroom!” Max swings his arms, almost knocking down Yuki. Sorry Uki, he murmurs as he furrows his eyebrows.

“Yuki,” the Japanese driver corrected him.

“Whatever.” Max waves in dismissal. Alex drags the Dutch closer to them.

“There’s one right here.” Max almost starts to cry as he spots the bathroom that stood close by the group.

“Thank youuuu.” He rushes towards the restroom as he tugs harshly. He lets out a whine as he bangs his head against the wall in frustration. “I swear I am going to kick this door down…”

Alex runs over. “Don’t do that, mate. Again.” He kisses his bicep as winks over to his girlfriend. Watch this, he mouths.

But it won’t budge.

“Move over,” George says as he starts rolling up his sleeves. This one’s for you, Carmen. The brunette girl cringes as she covers her eyes. He groans as he pulls with all his strength. “One minute…”

Lewis lets out a sigh as he walks over and pushes his teammate to the side. Wrapping both hands around the handle he leans back and pulls. Both Lily and Carmen drool over his rippling muscles.

“At least try to hide it,” George muffles.

Suddenly the door swings open. Max cheers as he runs in.

“Gotta pee, fuck, get out!”

Two flying bodies are thrown out as they both crash onto a nearby couch.

“Dickhead!” you yell out as you rub your head. Charles groans in pain with you on top of him. The entire room grows silent. Well, as silent as it could get in a club.

“Young lady, when your father finds out!” Lewis exclaims, hands against his hips.

“You’re fucked,” George laughs. “Literally.”

There’s really no way of hiding it. Your short skirt is riding up a tad bit too high as you yank it down. Lipstick stains cover the Monegasque’s face.

“Not a word.”

“And how do you think you guys are going to keep it under wraps?” Susie questions as Charles looks at you with an intrigued face. Yeah. How are we?

Rolling your eyes you take a bite of the now cold pancakes. You gag.

“Easy. We can just pretend to hate each other for a while, make dad believe I’m following his long lasting rule of not crushing on any driver and after a while he’ll trust me and ta-da! We’re getting married, baby!”

You flash a proud smile as Charles high fives you.

Your mom raises a skeptical brow as she leans against her chair. Giggling, you put your hand over hers.

“How hard could it be?”

#charles leclerc #charles leclerc imagines #charles leclerc x reader #f1 #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #charles leclerc drabble #charles leclerc smut #wolff!reader

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shurisasthmaticgf · 2 months

Text

wait a damn minute: max verstappen x black fem! reader

summary: in the midst of the biggest worldwide IT outage you realize your name has come up at the worst time possible

author's note: i wrote this on friday when the entire thing happened, i thought i posted it but turns out it was camped out in my drafts still. this is my first max fic so i hope it's an enjoyable read! feedback and comments are always appreciated and highly encouraged, i like to know what you all think of my work!

warnings: google translated dutch

the hungarian grand prix was only days away and you couldn't wait to surprise your boyfriend with a visit. it killed you to miss his races but you'd recently been promoted to a new position in your company which required more days in office than remote. you'd managed to balance work and personal life pretty well but when you weren't missing due to your new job, you had something else happen last minute. finally, after weeks of working long hours on end in an office, you were in the clear to start remote working more frequently.

you managed to clock out of work right on time so the minute the clock hit 6:00 pm, you were logging out and grabbing your already packed bag. one of your coworkers passed by you in the elevator, he was the only one around your age in the entire department so immediately you both clicked. he lightly bumped you with his shoulder and commented, "three side profiles and a headshot or selfie." you furrowed your brows in confusion and he clarified, "photo requests for my husband of course." the two of you burst into laughter as you teased, "was the autographed photocard not enough for you, théo? i even decorated it and put it in a holder for your desk." the young man smiled fondly thinking of the small 3x4 inch card that sat on the corner of his main monitor. he brushed one of his locs from his face and dramatically sighed, "fine i won't be pushy...i only want the selfie." you shook your head and refused with a chuckle, "i'm not asking toto wolff for a selfie, théo." your coworker let out a fake sigh of disappointment and lightly pushed you in the other direction as you parted ways to your cars. you laughed and called out, "i'll see what i can do, no promises though!" his face lit up and he blew your air kisses before calling out a goodnight.

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.

just thinking about seeing your boyfriend racing again brought butterflies to your stomach. although he was doing well this season a few problems had cost him a few wins here and there. fans had jokingly mentioned that you not being at races was the cause of the missed first place wins because coincidentally, every race you've ever attended, max has won exactly that. for weeks fans have asked about your whereabouts and you'd practically ghosted them simply because you were working so much. you were known as one of the more down to earth f1 WAGs who had no problem interacting with fans in person and over social media. so you suddenly not showing up for max and not interacting with people online made them wonder what was going on with you during the past few weeks. now that work had chilled out, you were happy to be back online again, and even happier to be able to make it out to hungary this weekend.

the moment you stepped into your apartment you made a beeline for your bedroom to change out of your professional clothes. you snatched a pair of scissors, a spray bottle, conditioner, a towel, a comb, and a crumpled up paper bag and cozied up on the couch with shrek queued on the tv. you sprayed your head with the warm water in the bottle and spread a glob of conditioner all over the roots of your hair. you pulled one of your braids forward and snipped the end before unraveling it and picking out whatever knots formed in the 6 weeks your hair had been tucked away. thankfully this time it didn’t take too long to get your braids out, only 3 hours compared to the usual 5 when you didn’t have your boyfriend’s help.

right as the last strands of synthetic hair slipped out of your own curls, your phone rang the familiar tune and a picture of your boyfriend flashed on your screen. a warm smile spread across your face as his camera turned on to show face. you braided you hair on each side to get it out of your face as you spoke, “hi my love how was your day?” he rolled over to his side and grumbled sleepily, “long, usual press day so you know how that goes.” you frowned slightly, “i wish i was there with you today.” max hummed and admitted, “i do as well. but your work is more important so i can deal with this.” you watched as his eyes lingered on your face and you giggled while moving out of the frame shyly, “stop looking at me like that.” although it was dimly lit in hotel room you could see the light pink tint to his cheeks as he smiled, “i can’t admire my lovely girlfriend?” he yawned mid sentence and you insisted, “as much as i love talking to you i know you’re tired and you need to go to sleep. so i’ll talk to you tomorrow, yeah?” he sleepily agreed and murmured, “welterusten mijn liefste.” you blew him a kiss and whispered softly, "goodnight baby." [goodnight, my love]

instead of heading straight to sleep you chose to wash your hair rather than waiting until the morning to do so. the flight you managed to snag last minute to hungary was set for tomorrow evening and you hadn't packed anything. not wanting to get onto a plane with a damp head of coils, you decided to just deal with it tonight. the entire process didn't take as long since you were speeding through just so you could sleep. by the time you were done it was around 2 AM and you were more than happy with the results. a dozen thick twists hung past your shoulders until you wrapped them up into a scarf and covered them with your bonnet to head to bed.

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.

when you woke up in the morning you noticed your phone had over 50 missed calls, messages, and emails. your mind conjured up the worst possible thoughts as you called your boyfriend to see what was the matter. max answered on the first few rings and you anxiously stammered, "baby? maxie? what's going on are you okay? where are you?" on the other line max answered clearly confused on what you were talking about, "schat? i am fine, i'm heading to the track. nothing is wrong here, what are you talking about?" you started to calm down realizing that he was fine but you responded, "i thought- didn't you blow up my phone early this morning? i was worried something happened and-" your boyfriend interjected with a calm tone, "y/n, i promise you nothing is the matter-"

an incoming call from théo, your coworker cut max off and you spoke up, "i'm sorry i think it's work related because théo is calling me." max let out an annoyed sound and you laughed, "i don't get why you don't like him." max scoffed, "he is too touchy and handsy with you." there was a playful groan, "oh god here you go- max, we've been over this. théo is a 27 year old gay man from san francisco who's convinced he's princess diana's reincarnate. he's the least of your worries okay?" max conceded, "okay fine i guess...but i still have my eye on him." another call from théo interrupted your conversation and you added, "but he's blowing up my phone so i need to see what's wrong. i'll talk to you later okay?" max agreed and bid you goodbye before hanging up the phone.

meanwhile you answered théo's call and he was literally running through what looked like the parking garage of his high rise. he panted, "you- you nee-...oh god i'm out of shape- you need to get up right now.. i'll be there to pick you up in fifteen minutes so be ready downstairs." you looked around confused and your coworker/ friend explained, "there's some massive outage or something happening. i know we had off today but they're calling the entire office in to see if we can figure it out." you were already climbing out of bed and you pressed for more information, "what do you mean an outage?" théo shrugged and wiped sweat from his brow as he tried to make himself look less winded, "i dunno i was thinking a breach or something? whatever it is we'll find out but we gotta go right now babes." you hurriedly grabbed an outfit from your closet and started to get dressed and ready to go, keeping him on the line.

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.

when you finally managed to get to his car, théo pointed to your phone and told you, "check twitter too, the fans are making jokes that you did something to the platform." despite having no idea what the hell he was talking about you opened twitter to see the flood of tweets under your name on the trending topics list. a pit formed in your stomach and you nearly fainted when you realized what he was talking about. you were completely new to this job and panic coursed through your veins on the thought of losing everything you worked hard for. the look of panic drew a laugh from your best friend and coworker as he jested, "they're funny aren't they?!" you shook your head and nearly shouted, "no it's not i'm gonna get fired!" théo waved off your concern, "girl the issue is definitely not from you and nobody thinks so. besides, dante from marketing and eleni from HR were sending the funny ones to our group chat...not that this isn't serious but just to make light of a shitty situation you know?" you shifted in your seat unsure how to feel and he promised, "i guarantee it's fine."

when you actually got to work with théo you were pulled into a meeting where you all were briefed about the situation. they clarified that they knew it was an issue with an update that was sent out early in the morning. after the meeting your boss told you that he knew you weren't supposed to be working today but you did need to stay and potentially over the weekend as well to help your team mitigate the issue as much as you all could. despite it being a global issue and not directly an issue from the monaco office, you knew that he meant he needed you there to help deploy the solution when it came through. he let you have a fifteen minute break to rearrange your travel plans and make the cancellations you needed before having you start work.

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.

the work day ended later than usual, the later hours were spent at your home office while you were on meetings with other people on your team. luckily you were able to catch up with the results of max's first and second practice sessions through peeking at live updates while you worked. when you got the okay to clock out, you nearly fell asleep on your desk but waking back up when your boyfriend's ringtone jump scared you.

you kept your head on the desk as you opened the video call, "hey you." max's features softened when he noticed the look of exhaustion on your face, "it was that bad huh?" you gave a silent thumbs up and sighed, "i wish it didn't happen...i was so excited to come surprise you and finally be there to see you again. i'm sorry i can't make it work." max rushed to your defense, "er zijn nog genoeg andere races over in het seizoen, je kunt in plaats daarvan naar die races komen kijken." you let out an annoyed groan, "i know but i wanted to be there this time. now you'll have bad luck." max chuckled at the mention of the running joke of you being his lucky charm, "it's alright. don't worry your pretty little head about me. now come on let's go to sleep, i know you're tired." you shuffled your feet against your bedroom floor as you took your phone with you to get ready for the night. [there are plenty of other races left in the season, you can come and watch those races instead.]

as you lay in bed with your lights off max asked, "did you see they asked me about you today?" you hummed a soft, "nuh uh." he smiled at the memory and explained, "i was in an interview and they mentioned that your name was trending on twitter and asked if i saw it. i only saw that your name was trending but i didn't see what for so they told me fans made jokes that you crashed the mercedes, mclaren, and williams servers so that i could win this weekend." a sleepy smile crossed your lips and you asked, "what'd you say?" he turned over in his bed and answered, "i told them it wasn't you because you don't make mistakes in your work. you're too good at what you do. also that you aren't the one that sends out the updates so people don't need to use your name in a bad light." you grinned wider already knowing what he was going to say, "and how did that go over?" max let out an sigh and small chuckle, "the guys have been making fun of me all night for it." you let out the loudest laugh max has heard from you in weeks making him somewhat more fine with getting teased by his friends.

your laughter subsided and you told him, "tell me about something interesting." max thought for a moment then started rambling on about the geologic history of the netherlands, watching as your eyes started to droop with the passing minutes. falling asleep with your boyfriend still on the phone became a habit especially in the early days of you dating. but now you were spending more time with him that occurrences like this just started happening once more, leaving you missing his presence at night. as for now, this was the best you could get.

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.

the end.

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vivwritesfics · 9 months

Note

hii !! i absolutely adore all your writing, you’re literally my fav F1 writer.

may i request a danny ric & wolff!daughter story ? :) if not that’s okay you can ignore this.

age gap bc im a sucker

Warnings: Hint of a daddy kink (for comedy purposes) but no smut

She was twenty five, not old enough to be dating a thirty four year old. At least, not in her fathers eyes. But the more he saw of them together, the more Toto came to accept it.

It took a full year before Toto felt ready to invite Daniel over for dinner. It was a big step, something that said to both Y/N and Daniel that he was finally accepting of their relationship.

Y/N and Daniel made their way to Toto and Susies house. Susie wasn't her mother, but she loved Y/N like a daughter. They, along with Jack, had formed a little family unit. Susie was the first person she told about Daniel, and she'd made her promise to keep it a secret until she felt ready to tell Toto herself.

They stood on the door step. Toto had made it clear that it was a fancy dinner, to dress to the nines. It was to challenge Daniel, they both knew, but he'd take any challenge Toto was going to throw his way.

Y/N straightened up his tie and kissed him before she knocked on the door. "Just relax and be yourself. My dad loves George Russell for some unexplainable reason, so he'll love you too," she said. (Let it be known that Y/N and George were friends, the kind of friends that took the piss out of each other constantly).

They were welcomed into the house and sat at the table as food was brought over. Conversation was idle, easy. Especially for Daniel. But Y/N could tell he was nervous. He was handling it brilliantly, though.

They scooped different parts of the meal onto their plates. Y/N had chicken and veg, but no potatoes. "Daddy, can you pass the potatoes?" She asked, grinning at her father (she had always been a daddy's girl and had never outgrown the name).

It was like something out of a movie, something not real. At the same time Daniel and Toto reached for the tray of potatoes. But Toto stilled himself, watching in horror as Daniel passed Y/N the potatoes.

Neither of them seemed to notice as Toto and Susie stared at them (Jack was completely unaware).

Suddenly Y/N looked up. "What?" She asked as she passed the potatoes back to Daniel.

And then it clicked. "Oh shit," she mumbled under her breath, refusing to meet her dads eye. There was no explanation for what had just happened, not one that wouldn't scar her parents. "This... isn't what it looks like?"

#daniel ricciardo #daniel ricciardo imagine #daniel ricciardo x reader #daniel ricciardo fluff #daniel ricciardo smut #daniel ricciardo x reader smut #daniel ricciardo x you #f1 #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula one #formula one imagine #formula one x reader #formula 1 #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 x reader #dr3 #dr3 imagine #dr3 x reader

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dilemmaontwolegs · 1 year

Note

Hey! So I had this Hurt comfort fic idea with Charles where she is engaged to him. Have you seen the video about the crowd in Montreal surrounding him? So something like them arriving and he's signing and clicking pics through the crowd holding her hand and the crowd and paps goes a bit haywire and she is separated and then visibly very hurt and injured because of that. And Charles is angry and protective, with the "Idc about myself but if anyone touches/hurts you I lose it" or something similar. Add drama and spice as you feel

Thank you Babe ❤️

A Step Too Far || CL16

Warnings: fluff, angst, implied smut WC: 1.9k

Charles could remember the first time he met your father. Obviously it wasn’t the first first time but it was the first time as your boyfriend, and that made it more important than any of the times they met in the paddock. Toto had gripped his hand tightly as they shook, pulling the younger driver closer to whisper in his ear.

“That’s my daughter, Charles, you put her above all else. It’s my job to protect her, and I’m trusting you here.”

“I understand, sir. I’ll keep her safe.”

“What did he say?” you asked as you left for your date.

“Nothing, ma chérie,” Charles assured you with a smile and a kiss to your cheek.

For three years he had kept that secret promise religiously, even as his popularity grew beyond his wildest expectations. He couldn’t walk down the street without being recognised, crowds gathering and people asking for photos or signatures. It wasn’t exactly new for you having grown up the way you did, but Charles’ fans were far more excitable and passionate than the ones who met your father.

Monza 2023

Everywhere you looked it was a sea of red supporters, the tifosi out in force to celebrate the third and fourth places Ferrari had taken in the race. You could see the equal parts of pride and disappointment on Charles’ face as he watched Carlos take the third step on the podium.

After heading back to his driver room, he collapsed into a chair with a groan and hung his head in his hands. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders and kissed the top of his head, wrinkling your nose at the sweat that dampened his dark hair. “That was a hell of a fight, baby.”

His grunt told you he thought otherwise but he placed his hand over yours and gave it a soft squeeze. “I almost had it, amour.”

“I know.” You nuzzled into his neck until his shoulders bunched up and he wriggled with a laugh at his ticklish spot.

“Okay, okay, no more moping,” he said as he stood up and turned to face you. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” You held up your hand that had a sparkly new ring resting upon it. “Or I wouldn’t have said yes.”

“I’m very glad you did.” He smiled as he took your hand and kissed the engagement ring. “I need to shower. There’s room for one more…”

Charles kept you tucked close to his side as he made his way through the lines of fans to where his car was pulling up. You were running late once again, after being distracted while you were meant to be getting dressed to go out for dinner. He left your side for only a moment to open your door but that moment was all it took as the metal barriers separating the crowd came crashing down and they surged forward.

The sight and the sound gave you a fright and you stepped back instinctively. “Charles!” He turned at your panicked tone and watched with horror as your heeled foot missed the curb, twisting painfully as you fell. For a second he lost sight of you in the sea of red and he was spurred into action.

“Back up! Get out of my way!” he shouted to the crowd as he pushed his way to you. Rage filled him as he found you crumpled beside his car, arms wrapped protectively around your head while the bodies finally started to give you room. Tears blurred your vision as pain radiated from your ankle and suddenly you were weightless as a familiar pair of arms picked you up. “Amour, are you hurt?”

You could hardly hear him as the crowd demanded his attention, screaming as they waved hats and posters in his direction. The look he sent them should have been warning enough but they were too high on his presence to notice.

“Amour?”

“My ankle,” you admitted with a wince as it was jostled.

He released a torrent of expletives under his breath as he carried you to the driver’s seat and climbed in with you on his lap, your legs hanging over onto the passenger seat. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” he apologised as he kissed your temple and pulled out of the hotel.

“It’s not your fault, Charles, I should have been paying more attention.”

“You got hurt because of me, that’s the only reason they were there. Shit.” His eyes darted to the centre screen as it announced an incoming call from Toto and he hit the accept button on the steering wheel.

“You haven’t lost your watch again, have you?” Toto greeted, his voice thick with amusement.

“We are almost there,” he replied as he turned onto the street where the restaurant reservation was booked. “We just ran into some trouble with some fans.”

The silence was deafening until it was broken by the scratch of a chair being pushed back on a wooden floor followed by the click of your father’s footsteps. “Trouble?”

You watched the door to the restaurant open and your father ignored the concierge as he stepped to the curb Charles was pulling up to. “This should be fun.” Charles grimaced at your words and ended the call as Toto tucked his phone away and opened the passenger door.

Toto stared at the empty seat before dragging his eyes across the space to find you on your fiancé’s lap. “Hi papa.”

“Don’t hi me,” he tutted as he walked around and moved the valet along with a wave of his hand. “What happened?”

“Nothing,” you assured him as you accepted his hand out of the sports car. “You two are as dramatic as each other.”

The flare of pain was sudden and impossible to hide when your shoe touched the pavement, the joint weakly giving underneath you. If not for Charles behind you it would have been much worse but he took your weight and kept you upright.

“What the fuck have you done to my daughter, Leclerc?” You found yourself in a tug of war, but you were the rope. Your father tried to pull you out of his arms but your yelp of pain froze the very air. He relinquished his fight and raised his hands before pointing a damning finger at Charles. “Hospital, now.”

“But I’m hungry,” you whined as he instantly moved to follow the order, stepping back towards the Ferrari. “Can’t we go after dinner, please?”

You turned your pleading eyes to your father and watched his resolve weaken.

“No,” Charles interrupted before Toto could agree and you turned to him with a look of betrayal. “Don’t look at me like that, amour. I can’t bear to see you in pain, especially when it’s my fault.”

“At least you take ownership,” Toto muttered. “Susie and I will bring you dinner. Go.”

There was no room to argue, not that Charles would. He respected your father too much for that.

“You need to make a statement,” Toto said tiredly as he sat in the hospital chair opposite Charles. You were on the bed separating them, enjoying the lack of pain while the drugs did their job and waiting for the moonboot to be fitted. “Something like this cannot be allowed to happen again.”

“He didn’t exactly give them permission, papa.”

Charles cut you a look out the corner of his eye before nodding to Toto. “I’ll make sure of it, sir. It might be time to hire some security.”

Your father barely hid his scoff as he muttered, “Better late than never.” Toto sat up straighter and rubbed his tired eyes. “These are things you will need to think about even more in the future, especially when you have children of your own - you’ll realise you can’t wait until something bad happens before making changes. You need to start thinking about the future now, son.”

Charles’ stare turned out the window as he took the advice seriously. You could see the contemplation set in hard lines across his face. The look turned sad when the nurse arrived with the moonboot you would need to wear for at least two weeks and he started to withdraw into himself as he pulled his phone out. Only a few moments later you saw your phone light up with a notification that he had posted to his Instagram.

“Good man,” Toto said as he read the statement that in no uncertain terms warned his fans there would be consequences if they couldn’t respect the boundaries set.

“Was that really necessary?”

“Yes,” they both answered adamantly.

“You are all set to go, darling,” the nurse said with a soft smile. “Rest up, and if there are any concerns just come right back.”

After thanking her you hobbled along, sandwiched between your father and fiancé, to the underground car park where the car was waiting.

“I’ll come back to your hotel, make sure you get inside safely,” your father said as he opened your door and kissed your cheek.

“His fans have probably all run away by now.”

“I think you’re underestimating the tifosi. I’d rather not take the risk.”

Toto was right, because if anything there were even more fans lining the entrance to the hotel than before. Only this time there was also more security.

You were quickly ushered through to the quieter reception area where Toto shared a look that said ‘I told you so’ before bidding a goodnight and heading his own way back. The elevator ride to the penthouse suite was silent and it wasn’t the comfortable silence you were used to. It grew heavier with each level and you were itching to get out of the confined space by the time the doors opened.

“It’s not your fault,” you whispered as Charles pulled his shirt off and sat on the edge of the bed with a sigh. “Don’t blame yourself.”

“I broke my promise,” he said as his shoulders sagged further, like he was moments from imploding on himself. “I swore to your father I would protect you.”

“Charles, I love you, but you can’t protect me from the world - no matter what my father thinks.” You crawled over the duvet and onto his lap so you could cup his face. “I don’t blame you and it is me who is going to be marrying you, not him.”

His brows pinched together. “I hadn’t even thought about children.”

“What?”

“After the wedding, having children - what that would be like in this environment. I hadn’t thought about it. I obviously knew it’s what I wanted for us down the line but now…it’s a little scary to think what might happen to them.”

“Char, there’s no rush. We don’t know what our future will look like in five years, or ten.” You stroked his cheeks and dipped your head forward to kiss his pouting lips. “Just focus on the here and now, baby. Forget what happened out there. In here, it’s just you and me, and a king sized bed that’s far too neatly made.”

“It is pretty neat.”

“So why don’t we mess it up?”

His eyes flicked to your legs draped over his, lingering on the bulky boot. “Amour?”

Your fingers were already running down his chest, reaching for the waistband of his trousers he had worn to dinner. “You won’t hurt me. You could never hurt me. I trust you.”

#f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 rpf #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x you #f1 x you #formula 1 fanfic #formula one imagine #formula one fanfiction

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lqvesoph · 8 months

Text

Right person, wrong time || LN4

lando norris x childhood sweetheart/ex gf!reader

summary: lando and reader haven’t seen each other since their break up 6 years ago, now at a grand prix where her current boyfriend is invited, they meet again

kind of like the "in a room full of people i know who i would run to but i also know who i would stare at the whole time"

masterlist | taglist

You really did hope you wouldn’t run into him today…

But standing opposite of the Mclaren hospitality and inside your boyfriend’s arm, you knew it was a lie. Because who are you kidding? The whole time you have been inside the paddock you looked around you, almost waiting to catch a glimpse of the curly headed McLaren driver.

But now you locked eyes with him from opposite of his teams home and all the emotions dared to come up.

Lando shook his head as if to escape the trance the eye contact with you had put him in and turned around, walking hastily back into the hospitality.

"Right, baby?", you heard your boyfriend Theo smile and felt his hand squeeze your hip. You tore your eyes away from the orange building and put a fake smile on your face. "You never were really into motor racing growing up? That was until you met me", Theo repeated, helping you with the conversation.

"Oh, yes totally! My dad is a huge fan but I rarely watched", you lied. "Of Mercedes, I hope", Toto Wolff joked, making you chuckle. "In fact, he is."

*~*~*~*~*~*

The sight of Lando didn’t leave your thoughts for the rest of the day.

He looked so much different. So much taller, broader and older.

Theo was off with a few team members showing him this years car while you stood back a little.

"Y/n, is that you?", an all too familiar voice asked behind you, making you turn around. "I thought it was you", George Russell smiled, opening his arms to give you a hug. "It’s been ages! I haven’t seen you since you and Lando-", George started talking but let his words trail at the end.

"Anyways, how are you? What have you been up to?", he quickly put a smile back on his face. "I‘m good, thank you! I just finished university", you told him. "Interior Design still?", George smirked, remembering what you had told him over six years ago. You chuckled and nodded. "Yes, Interior Design."

George had always been one of you best mates when you and Lando were together, you just clicked. But when Lando and you called it quits, you disappeared from the paddock, cutting off everyone and everything that reminded you of Lando.

You even stopped watching Formula 1. You tried to but when they showed a nervous small Lando before his first race in Australia, you started bawling your eyes out at the feeling of missing him.

You thought now, six years later, the memories and scars would have faded at least a little while, which is why you agreed to join your boyfriend when he was invited by Mercedes. But now being here, back in the paddock, the wounds still felt as fresh as on the first day.

"Darling, you have to see this!", Theo called, a huge smile on his face. George and you turned around. A frown creeping its way on George‘s face as he connected the dots, figuring out that the guy that had called you must be your boyfriend.

"Coming!", you called, giving George a smile and hurrying over to your boyfriend.

Seeing George reminded you of Lando and of memories you tried so hard to push away.

*~*~*~*~*~*

After Theo had excitedly explained to you the different parts of a Formula 1 car to you, you told him you need to get some fresh air and would be back in a few minutes.

Theo didn’t know about your past in this world, including Lando. You knew every little part of that damn car, you even sat in one when Lando tested the McLaren cars the year before he debuted in Formula 1.

You quickly walked down the paddock, breathing heavily at the thought of all those memories until someone called your name, making you stop in your tracks.

You closed your eyes until you felt a hand on your shoulder, sending sparks through your whole body.

"I can’t believe it’s really you", Lando whispered as you turned around.

Being this close, you could even see the dark stubbles on his chin, smiling at the memory of 17 year old Lando complaining about not being able to grow a beard.

"Hi", you breathed, not quite knowing how to act. Lando chuckled. "Hi."

"Uh- what… what brings you into the paddock?", he then asked, nervously fiddling with his fingers, a habit that he hasn’t broken in all those years.

"I‘m here with my boyfriend", you said, watching as hurt flashed before Lando‘s eyes and a frown sneaked on his face.

"Oh", he simply said, trying to play down the hurt he felt. "That‘s- uh great."

"You wanna come to the hospitality?", Lando changed the topic. And against your better judgment and your head screaming at you not to say yes, you nodded, making a relieved smile make its way on Lando’s face.

You tried to ignore the glance the two of you got when you walked passed the McLaren team members and up to Lando‘s driver room.

You hesitantly looked around the small room as Lando closed the door.

"So, what have you been up to?", he broke the silence, making you move your attention to the curly headed boy. "I- uh just finished university and we‘re moving to Spain this fall", you told him, still avoiding his eyes.

"Spain, huh? Where in Spain?", Lando continued, ignoring the 'we'. "Madrid." Your reply made Lando frown. "Why not Barcelona? You love Barcelona!"

"Well, Theo liked Madrid quite a lot so…", you said, making Lando huff. But you ignored it.

"How have you been?", you asked. "Good, uh, yeah. The car‘s pretty good and the team is just amazing", he smiled, but you could tell it was forced. "That‘s great!", you said, wondering why you even agreed to come to talk to him. In private. In a closed room. In his driver room.

A rather awkward silence settled over you until Lando broke it once again. "What happened to us?", he carefully whispered which made you close your eyes. You assumed this conversation would eventually lead to this point.

"We grew up, Lando", you replied quietly. "But why didn’t we grew up together?", he asked, looking directly at you. "We didn’t want the same thing anymore or more like we couldn’t have the same thing anymore", you said, still not looking at Lando.

You never had a proper conversation about what led to your break up. Maybe it was because you were too young and the pain of it overshadowed all the logical thoughts on how to handle it.

"I, for my part, was so happy for you. I knew this was all you dreamed of. But somewhere between summer and winter of 2018 we started to drift apart. You were busy and away quite a lot, and I‘m not entirely blaming you for that, I also didn’t really put in an effort and for that I’m sorry", you spoke softly, thinking back on your teen years.

"I‘m so sorry, darling. I should’ve made more of an effort, to visit home more often or to at least call", Lando apologized, fiddling with his fingers. "Me too, Lando, me too", you mumbled, feeling the tears forming in the corner of your eyes.

"You were the person who taught me everything. Taught me how to ride a bike, how to have fun and most importantly how to love. But Lando we were kids, merely 18 years old. We both weren’t mature enough to actually hold that relationship. Hell, we weren’t even mature enough to talk about our break up", you spoke, your eyes on the verges of tears.

"But what about now?", Lando asked hopeful and reached for one of your hands, wrapping it in his.

You let out a painful laugh. "I‘m in a relationship and I love Theo, so much", you muttered. "Then why are you still in here with me?", Lando posed the question that you had asked yourself already, not daring to give yourself and answer.

"Because… a part of me will always love you. But sometimes that just isn’t enough", you whispered, pulling your hand away from Lando‘s and standing up.

Walking back to your boyfriend, all you could think about was the conversation you just had and if you had made the right decision.

You forced a half smile when Theo spotted you and opened his arms. "Where have you been, the race is almost starting", he smiled, pressing a kiss to your temple.

"You know just wandering around, discovering the paddock", you lied, settling in your boyfriends’ arms and focusing your attention on the TV.

But without meaning to, your eyes immediately searched for Lando during the national anthem, your heart beating slightly faster when they showed the line up and even more when he overtook Max Verstappen to take the race lead after the first corner.

Still, you stood in Theo‘s arms till the end of the race, watching Lando up on the podium from afar.

masterlist | taglist

@im-an-overthinker @buendiabebeta @hungryhungariann @ohthemisssery @kenopsiababe @sawendel @enjoymyloves @ricsaigaslec @ravenqueen27 @temqr1 @leclerc16s @theamazingsimplethings-blog @coldmuffinbanditshoe @hotchnisscm97 @andtheworldiscrashingdownonme @moneymasnn @justme2042 @amulhermaisfelizdomundo @pleasantducktimetravel @anthonykatebridgerton @lisannehus @hannahholland1811 @lighttsoutlewis @mydutchproblem @dan3avocado @alwaysclassyeagle @cocomiracle @allthisfortommy @soleilgrec @cheeryara-blog @person2345-blog @aquamariene-me @judespoision @sbgal @teti-menchon0604 @darleneslane @flower-name @mehrmonga @paolexsstuff @paolexsstuff @kiskso

#lando norris #f1 #mclaren #lando norris fluff #lando norris imagine #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #lando norris x y/n #lando norris x ex!gf #formula 1 imagine #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 x y/n #lando norris x female reader

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swiftiethatlovesf1 · 13 days

Text

Toto's obsession p.2

Hii guys, I hope you enjoyed part 1 of this story, I don't plan on doing a part 3 but if you want it let me know :)

The morning passed in a blur as you readied yourself to head to the paddock with George. As always, the excitement of race day buzzed in the air, the energy electric. You walked alongside your brother, the familiar roar of engines in the distance mixing with the hum of activity from the teams. George, as focused as ever, talked strategy, completely unaware of the tension building inside you.

Your mind was elsewhere, on the man you’d spent the night with—the man you were about to see again. It had been a delicate balance, keeping your relationship with Toto hidden. Every look exchanged in passing, every secret moment stolen away from prying eyes, added to the thrill. But with each day, it became harder to keep the truth from your brother.

You arrived at Mercedes' motorhome, your heart racing as you neared the door to Toto’s office. George had to leave soon to get ready for his practice session, so you knew this was your chance.

“I’ll catch up with you after you get suited up,” you said, giving George a reassuring smile.

He nodded, glancing at you with that familiar brotherly protectiveness before heading off toward the garage. As soon as he disappeared from view, you slipped away, your steps quickening as you made your way to Toto’s office. The door was already slightly ajar, and you didn’t bother knocking.

As soon as you stepped into Toto’s office, the air between you was thick with tension. The door barely clicked shut before he was on you, his hands gripping your waist as he pulled you toward him, his lips crashing against yours with an urgency that sent shivers through your body. Every kiss was demanding, his hands possessive as they slid down your back, claiming every inch of you.

“Toto,” you breathed between kisses, trying to catch your breath, “someone could—”

“Let them,�� he growled against your lips, his voice low and commanding. “You’re mine, Y/N.” His words sent a jolt of heat through you, making it hard to think of anything but him.

He lifted you effortlessly onto the edge of his desk, the cool surface a sharp contrast to the heat of his body against yours. You tangled your fingers in his hair, pulling him closer as his lips moved from your mouth to your neck, trailing heated kisses down your skin, making you gasp softly. His hands gripped your hips, pulling you flush against him, as if he couldn’t get close enough, couldn’t get enough of you.

The intensity between you was overwhelming, all-consuming. Every touch from him ignited a fire in you that left you dizzy, wanting more, needing more. His lips found yours again, this time slower, deeper, as if savouring the taste of you. He kissed you like he needed you to breathe, his hands moving under your shirt, exploring every curve with a hunger that made your pulse race.

“Toto,” you whispered, but your voice was lost in the moment, your mind clouded with desire. His mouth was on your collarbone now, his fingers tangled in your hair, pulling you closer still, making you forget where you were, who you were supposed to be.

Suddenly, the door swung open with a loud crash, and you froze. George stood in the doorway, his face a mask of betrayal and anger, his eyes locked onto the scene in front of him.

“What the hell is this?” George’s voice was low, simmering with fury. His gaze flicked from you to Toto, disbelief clouding his features.

You pushed yourself away from Toto, your heart hammering in your chest, but the damage was already done. “George, I can explain—”

“Explain?” he snapped, his voice rising. “You’re with him? My team principal? Behind my back? This is how you repay me?”

George's anger was palpable, and you could see the hurt mixed into his outrage. His fists were clenched, his knuckles white as he glared at Toto. Without hesitation, George swung at him, his fist connecting with Toto’s jaw before you could react.

Toto staggered back, wiping the blood from his lip, but his eyes never left George. His calm, calculating demeanour returned as he straightened himself, refusing to strike back. Instead, he turned to you with a softness that left you even more conflicted.

“Y/N, go get the medical kit,” Toto said calmly, his voice gentle toward you, though the tension between him and George was almost suffocating.

You hesitated for a moment, glancing between them, but the intensity of the situation urged you to leave. You rushed out of the office, your thoughts spinning as you searched for the first aid kit. Your hands trembled as you grabbed the supplies, your mind still reeling from what had just happened.

When you returned, George was standing rigid, his back to the wall, glaring at Toto as though he was trying to burn holes into him. You knelt beside Toto, cleaning the blood from his lip with shaking hands.

“Are you okay?” you asked softly, concern flooding your voice.

“I’m fine,” Toto reassured you, his hand covering yours briefly, his touch calming you in a way only he could. But as you glanced between them, you could feel the air between the two men still crackling with hostility.

After a few moments, George stormed out of the room without a word, leaving you and Toto alone once again. You stood up to follow him, knowing you needed to explain, to try to make him understand, but when you caught up with George outside, his anger hadn’t subsided.

“George, please,” you began, your voice pleading as you reached out to him. “Let me explain.”

“Explain what?” he snapped, spinning around to face you. His face was flushed with fury, his eyes bright with emotion. “That you’ve been sneaking around with him? Y/N, do you even understand what you’ve gotten yourself into?”

“I know this looks bad, but—”

“You don’t know anything!” he interrupted, his voice breaking with a mix of anger and concern. “He’s manipulating you, Y/N. He’s using you, and you’re too naive to see it.”

His words stung, cutting deeper than you expected. You wanted to tell him that he was wrong, that Toto wasn’t manipulating you, that what you had with him was real. But the look in George’s eyes—his frustration, his protectiveness—made you falter.

“I care about him, George,” you whispered, your voice small. “He’s not… it’s not like that.”

George shook his head, running a hand through his hair, exasperated. “You don’t get it. You’re my sister. I’m supposed to look out for you, and I can’t do that if you’re… if you’re with him.”

He turned away, taking a few deep breaths as he tried to calm himself down. “You don’t know the kind of man he is, Y/N. He’s controlling, manipulative, and you’re letting him play you like a game. I won’t stand by and watch it.”

Tears stung at your eyes, not from his harsh words, but from the hurt in his voice. You wanted to make things right, to explain that you weren’t being manipulated, that Toto cared about you deeply—but George wasn’t ready to hear it. Not now.

“I just want to protect you,” George said, his voice softer but still laced with frustration. “But if you’re going to keep this up, I don’t know how I can.”

With that, he walked away, leaving you standing there, torn between your love for your brother and the complex, undeniable pull you felt toward Toto.

Here's part 3

#f1 #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 #toto wolff #toto wolff imagine #toto wolff x reader #toto wolff x y/n #george russel imagine #george russell

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formulawolff · 4 months

Text

night swim - t.w.

pairing: nanny!reader x single dad!toto wolff

word count: 1.5k

warnings: poorly translated german, age gap relationship, inappropriate work relationships, oral (f! receiving), boundaries being crossed, pet names (lots of pet names ok), cursing, toto being a munch, yadayadayada

"do you mind if i join you?"

the words are low, thick with his accent as you glance over your shoulder. the heat from the water seeps into your muscles, bubbles foaming at the surface as the jets run, creating tiny currents.

"i don't mind!" you chirp, "the more, the merrier!"

toto wolff, team principal of the mercedes-amg petronas formula one team stands behind you, peeling off the heather gray tee that clung to his frame. he's careful with his movements, ensuring that he does not make too much noise as he strolls over to the ladder.

he steps in, bliss rippling across his face as the warmth envelops his exposed skin. he settles in the tub merely a few feet across from you, his broad shoulders leaning against the edge.

"now, this is nice. i can see why you've been coming out here these last few nights."

bringing your hand to your mouth, you stifle a giggle, "never been in a hot tub before, mr. wolff?"

"please," he rolls his eyes, tutting, "call me toto."

"well toto," you emphasize his name, clicking your tongue, "my question still stands."

when you were offered to accompany mr. wolff and the kids for a weekend getaway in the mountains surrounding zermatt, how could you have refused? especially when it was made very clear that mr. wolff was going to cover all of your expenses. while you profusely stated he did not have to, he was adamant that he was going to. along with your typical payment for assisting with any and every one of the children's needs.

oh, the perks of nannying for a billionaire.

since it was around midnight, the kids were asleep, leaving you two as the only ones awake. the hot tub was spacious, but it was still cozy, only a few feet between you and the team principal. all around, hanging lights glowed, casting a soft golden light over the water.

additionally, there was a privacy fence surrounding the tub, shielding you from the frosted windows of the cabin. it was the perfect relaxation spot, as you could lounge here in the evenings after putting jack to bed and checking on rosa and benedict.

well, now that toto found you, it had disturbed your little quiet haven.

yet, you didn't mind, leaning over the edge of the tub to place your book down. since you didn't know much about the team principal, this was the perfect opportunity. perhaps you could learn a thing or two.

it went without saying that toto was a mysterious man. due to his hectic schedule, you did not encounter him much. most of the time, they were brief exchanges as he came home from work-related events, or when he came by to pick up the kids from susie.

these exchanges were completely cordial, his tone nothing but polite as you greeted him. however, now that awkwardness politeness was dissolving by the second, the team principal in close proximity.

"i have participated in my fair share of hot springs and such," he shrugs, "but this is sort of a rare occasion. i don't get out much, but i'm sure you know that."

"you seem like a very busy man," laughter bubbles up in your chest, spilling from your lips, "how is the season going? jack told me he was excited to see lewis next weekend."

at the mention of lewis, as in lewis hamilton, toto's lips curve into a broad grin, "the season is going well. there have been some hiccups, but nothing we can't handle. but enough about me, i'm sure the kids tell you all about their father. i want to get to know you."

"me?" you raise a brow, "oh toto, there is nothing interesting about me. i promise."

"nothing interesting about a gorgeous woman like you?" your heart skips a beat as he crosses the space between you, only inches apart now, "surely there's something. what else do you do besides nannying?"

"taking care of your children is the only interesting thing about me i'm afraid."

"do you have a boyfriend?" toto presses, his hands cupping the edge of the tub, pinning you to the cool surface, "surely you have a boyfriend. you're far too pretty to be walking around single."

"oh toto," you murmur, the notes so sweet and angelic, "nannying is my top priority. ensuring that your children are safe, happy, and well taken of is what i devote most of my time towards. i don't have time for boyfriends."

"good girl," he hums, "that's a good answer. you're far too pretty for most of these boys anyway."

good girl.

the way the praise fell so effortlessly from his lips sends a shiver down your spine.

"so what are you saying?" tilting your head back, your gaze finds his, your lips pursing ever so slightly.

"i'm saying you need a man," his mouth hovers above yours, the words dripping with lust, "you need a man to take care of you."

"oh do i?" you tease, "do i need a man like you, mr. wolff?"

fuck.

were you oh so tantalizing in this moment.

toto knew he shouldn't. he knew the stakes involved. he was well aware of the risks that came with this.

yet, you were so fucking tempting in that little number.

and he just couldn't resist.

not for a second longer.

lips crash into yours, steady hands cupping the curves of your ass, lifting you to the edge of the tub. you nearly teeter, but he holds you firmly, the fiery kiss sucking the air out of your lungs. the veins in his muscular forearms are prominent as he keeps you situated on that edge, your thighs spreading, inviting him in.

a whine rises in your throat as his tongue licks along your lower lip, begging for entrance. you let him in, hips bucking as the kisses deepen, your arms wrapping around his neck.

the kisses are passionate, fueled by lust. almost as if the team principal was wolf, ready to pounce.

and you were his prey.

his innocent, angelic, stunning, prey.

the cooler air has your nipples hardened, yet you were hot to the touch, desperate for some sort of relief to the burning desire consuming you whole as his mouth descends, pressing sloppy kisses down your neck, onto your collarbone.

"toto," you groan, head rolling back as fingers wrap around the fabric of your bikini top, his warm mouth enveloping your nipple. his tongue flicks back and forth, earning a series of mewls from you.

"what is it?" he nearly pants, "what do you need?"

"you."

"is that right?" he coos, glancing upward, "you need a man like me to take care of you?"

"yes," you nod, perhaps a little too enthusiastically, "please."

"oh i will," his lips curl into a smug smirk, "i'll take care of you, angel. don't you fret."

his mouth reconnects with the plane of your stomach, the taste salt lingering on his tongue from the water. you squirm as he finds your dripping core, his tongue teasing your swollen clit through the fabric of your bottoms.

"so, so beautiful," he murmurs, his breath fanning against your inner thighs, "like an angel from the heavens above."

his fingers hook the hem of your bottoms, pulling them aside as he comes face-to-face with your weeping cunt. carefully, his tongue treads along your slick folds, a moan ringing out into the night.

your fingers tangle in his dampened locks, tugging at the roots as his eyes drift upward.

the emotion bursting within those depths is indescribable. it was almost as if a man was brought to his knees at the altar, ready to worship and praise the divine. as if a man was catching his first glimpse at a piece of pure art.

yet, the once bright mocha gaze was now dimmed, hardened into a near obsidian hue by the spell that had taken ahold.

"ride my tongue," the words vibrate against you, "i need to feel it. need to taste you."

yet, as you begin to roll those hips, a familiar cry floods your ears.

"papaaaa! hase!"

jack.

"fuck," toto curses, wiping his lower lip, "i guess i should go check out what he needs, hmm? or isn't that your job?"

"he called for his papa first," you tease, sticking out your tongue, "i can go help him back to bed though. he probably just had a nightmare."

"hase?" his brows furrow as you swim across the tub, stepping onto the ladder, "why does he call you bunny?"

"it's a long story," you wave a hand, treading up the steps, "i need to go do my job. also, my fingers are getting all pruney. we may want to continue this somewhere else."

"well," toto follows in suit, slapping your ass, "i think we'll continue this in my room. if you don't mind."

"you better hope i don't fall asleep with jack," you scoff, wrapping a towel around your frame.

"oh hase, don't fret. i'll just carry you out of that bed and into mine."

#toto wolff #formula 1 #f1 #formula one #toto wolff x reader #toto wolff smut #formula one x reader #f1 x reader #toto wolff x y/n #toto wolff x you #formula one fanfiction #f1 fanfiction

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sinofwriting · 10 months

Text

It's Like I Don't Know You Anymore - Max Verstappen (& Lewis Hamilton)

Words: 4,816 Summary: Y/N Rosberg, Nico Rosberg’s little sister, returns to the world of F1 after six years away. And she returns in the most unexpected garage. Warning(s)/Note(s): Takes place in 2022, Past Relationship with Lewis Hamilton that involves an age difference of about 11 years. Secret/Private Relationship(s), Smut in the Imola 2022 part

Masterlist | Support Me! | It's Like I Don't Know You Anymore Verse

Jeddah 2022

Lewis scoffs as he reads the trash article. It was anything but substantial and from a site that was more known for just recirculating already known things in their own words and for the occasional lie to stir up drama.

He had only seen it because he had alerts on his personal phone for her name and he couldn’t help but click on it seeing that it was popping up on an F1 related site. He expected it to be one of those top ten outfit things, he hadn’t expected utter garbage.

He’d know if she was returning to the paddock, he would’ve been told, especially during one of the first few weekends of the new season. The first season since he had won that he won’t have the number one on his car and his jaw clenched at the reminder that he was no longer the current world champion, that he had to stay longer, needed to stay longer. He wanted that eighth championship, and until he got it he was staying, needed to. And this year could be the year, would be the year.

“Have you seen this rubbish?” Lewis asks Toto when he steps out of his driver's room and into the garage. It’s filled with life as everyone gets ready for the first free practice session. Shouts being heard back and forth. The whirring of tools as mechanics make sure they’re all working and where they should be. “What rubbish?” His Austrian accent is thick as it wraps around the words. He glances around, looking for cameras, spotting none, he still lowers his voice. “Y/N,” the name is awkward off his tongue and it makes Toto flinch, no one had called her that, not unless it was for something important, like life or death. “Some blog reported that she’s in Red Bull’s garage.” He laughs. The taller man stills.

Toto after all these years still wasn’t sure what exactly had happened between Mouse and Lewis. He knew what had happened between Nico and Lewis, had tried to fix it, to patch it up, to stay neutral, but his preference for Lewis had been obvious to Nico and the brotherhood that had been so strong, had spanned so many years, ended quicker than it began as the season drew on and the tension got tighter.

And while he hadn’t managed to play middle man without one of them getting mad, shouting, screaming, storming away like a toddler. Mouse had. She had easily gone between the two men as they both threw fits. He still wasn’t sure how the girl had done it, barely an adult, but dealing with two grown men, but she had and handled it like a champ. Toto had never been allowed to hold Nico’s trophy like Lewis had allowed him to when he had won before, but he knew and had seen how Nico let her hold. As if it was not just his but hers as well.

Toto had expected when the 2017 season started even with Nico, leaving, retiring, for her to come anyways. Had set aside passes for her, made sure that she was in the system to be allowed in despite knowing that she would show up with Lewis, because that’s how it had always been. If she wasn’t showing up with her brother, she was showing up with Lewis. But she was a no show and when he tried to reach out, he was blocked.

She went full no contact with everyone in the racing world and at first Toto had thought that maybe something serious had happened, but she was still posting on her blog, though there was a distinct lack of F1, she just wasn’t talking to him. He could still remember the swell of anger that came over and then the shame that had quickly followed. How he had gone to Lewis to ask if she was alright, if she was mad at him, mad at Mercedes, only for Lewis to flinch, to shake his head. Telling him that he hadn’t heard from her or seen since the day after Nico won his championship. He could still feel the bitterness that rolled off of Lewis’ tongue as he said that none of the Rosberg’s were talking to him.

“It’s not rubbish.” Toto manages to say after a moment, trying to push back the memories, the grief of no longer getting to see Mouse grow up, because god she had just turned twenty-six and the last time he had seen her, she was twenty, still a child in many ways. “She is at Red Bull’s garage.” “What?” “She showed up after all the drivers did, waited I think, and made her appearance. Went straight to Red Bull. She had passes.” “She’s never liked Red Bull.” “You’ve never liked Red Bull.” Toto corrects.

It was a thing that had frustrated much of the Mercedes team, how despite himself, Nico, and Lewis despising Red Bull, she still liked them, would pop into their garage, chat with their drivers, mechanics, engineers, and such. Toto nearly had an aneurysm the first time he saw her and Horner talking.

“Doesn’t make sense.” “No it doesn’t.”

—

“Red Bull, huh? Naughty, naughty girl.” He clicks his tongue. She rolls her eyes, “You already knew that I was going there.” He laughs, “Doesn’t mean I can’t tease you about it.” “Was there a reason you called, Nico?” “What? I can’t check in on my sister?” She rolls her eyes again, but grins. “I just wanted to make sure that nothing happened.” “Lewis didn’t try to talk to me or at least not that I know of.” It was easy to read between the lines with Nico. “I stayed at Red Bull, in their garage, no one but Red Bull personnel came close to me.” “And you still want to do this?” “Yes.” Her voice is soft and she sits on the hotel bed, crossing her ankles. “I’ve missed it, the sport, the paddock, it’s nice to be back.” “And Mercedes?” “I have no interest in talking to anyone at Mercedes, past or present. They don’t matter, not anymore.” “Mouse. You will be careful, yes? I’m not there anymore.” “Careful as can be.”

Australia 2022

He expects her to be at the next race in Australia and he doesn’t know why. It had been one of the races she was always willing to miss as she hated flying there. Not feeling it was worth it.

So he pretends not to be disappointed when no photos of her arriving popping up, not even whispers of rumors of her sneaking in which he wouldn’t believe in the first place. The idea of her sneaking into a race made him scoff. It wasn’t her, that wasn’t how she operated. He knew her, knew she liked the attention of arriving at the races just like he did. He also pretends that it doesn’t hurt to think about how they used to show up together to races.

Imola 2022

“You’re going to win.” She soothes, rubbing his shoulders and he can’t help but let them drop, let her loosen the tension in them. “I retired from the last race.” “And that was the last race.” He wants to deny it, there’s still that feeling that settles at the bottom of his stomach when he doesn’t win, when he isn’t on the podium, in the points. But it’s lessened as he’s been with her. “And tell me, Schat.” He grabs at her hand, gently pulling her until she’s in front of him, standing between his legs. “Will I just win the GP or also the sprint?” She smiles and he can feel his heartbeat quicken. “Both.” She tells him, resting her hands on his face and letting their lips brush together. “You’ll win both, Max.”

He wins the sprint and then the GP and he’s thankful that she isn’t out with the rest of the team when he’s on the podium, that she stayed in his drivers room, waiting for him. Because he knows that if she had, he would’ve ruined their plans of staying private, secret. He would have kissed her, told her that she did it, she told him he was going to win, so he did. He won both of them for her.

Max does tell her that. He tells her that in between champagne flavored kisses, along with thanks and murmurs of his love against her skin as she sighs and tugs at his nomex.

“I could win every race this season with you supporting me, Schat.” His breathing is heavy, he’s in between her thighs, racesuit and nomex just tugged down enough for his dick to be free, ass exposed. She hadn’t protested, but moaned when he ripped through her tights that she was wearing underneath her skirt, and moaned again when he moved her underwear to the side. Rubbing at her clit to get her wet as he quickly prepped her before sinking into her. He repeats it as he thrusts inside her, high on not the two wins, but on her, on her support, her belief. “You're my lucky charm.” She freezes around him, her moans tapering off and he curses as he realizes what he said. “I’m sorry.” He murmurs, lips against her forehead. “I did not mean.” “I know.” She sounds sure, truthful, but her legs that had been tight around him, heels digging into him, have loosened.

“If I don’t win a race that is my fault or the teams. It is not yours.” He tells her. She nods but doesn’t look at him. “Schat.” He holds her chin between two fingers, holding eye contact with her. “You are my lucky charm. Not because I think I will win races because of you and your support. Because you make even the races I don’t win feel okay, like I haven’t failed.” “You haven’t failed.” She immediately says frowning and her legs are tightening back up around him. “You can’t win every race no matter how good luck it looks on you.” He flushes at her words. “I know you are different from him. You have shown that already.” She struggles with the next words. “I just don’t think I can handle being called a lucky charm yet.” “Then I won’t.” He tells her. She blinks at him, at how easy he said, at simple he’s making it. “But you said.” “Yes.” He shrugs, shifting his weight and they both hiss at how his body moves from it, both having forgotten that he was still inside her. But he pushes his building arousal away. “But I won’t say it any more. Not if it makes you uncomfortable.” She stares at him for a few seconds before smiling. “Ik houd van je Max.” He smiles back at her, kissing her. “Ik houd van je, Schat.”

He goes to pull out, unable to ignore the arousal building in him anymore, but not wanting her to feel like they need to have sex, but her heels are pressing into him, thighs tightening around him.

“Fuck me, Max.” He says her name, quiet and with wide eyes. She moves her hips and he follows them with a snap of his own. “You won two races.” She murmurs, breathing tickling his lips before she’s placing her lips on his jaw, moving them down to his neck. “Fuck me, Max. I want you to. Want to celebrate with you like this.”

She’s sucking a mark into his skin and he’s choking down a groan. “Just us two, our own quick celebration before you have to go with your team. Before I’m left all alone in our hotel room.” He starts to thrust again, pressing his lips against hers before she can say anything else, before he really leaves any earlier than he was already planning to at the dinner celebration the team was holding.

As he continues to thrust into her, his lips stay against hers, muffling both of their sounds, but as he feels his balls tightening, he breaks them apart, pressing her face into his neck, encouraging her to bite at him as his other hand goes between their bodies, to her clit.

The bite of hers against his collarbone when she clenches around him, cumming, has him hissing. He stills his hips as she comes down from her orgasm, still rubbing at her clit, but more gently.

“Where do you want it?” He asks, when she bats his hand away from her and presses for him to continue to rock into her body. His orgasm is quickly approaching and really he should be pulling out, just finish in his own hand in case he finishes inside her before she says it's okay. But she’s tight and warm and feels too good. “Do you want it in your mouth? Want me to pull out? Finish in my hand, feed it to you?” She moans at his words, at the thing they’ve done once before. “Or do you want me to leave you something? Cum inside you and have you feel it drip out, go back to the hotel with just your underwear stopping it from dripping down your leg and ruining your tights.” “Inside Max. Please, inside me.” He groans at her words, hips speeding up. He only manages a few solid thrusts before he’s shuddering, pressing as close as he can as cums inside her, muffling a moan against her shoulder.

His hips twitch a little in the aftershocks of his orgasm as he pants against her shoulder.

“You’re going to kill me.” “With what?” She laughs. “Orgasms?” “With your dirty little mind.” He tells her, slowly pulling out, rubbing at her thighs as he does. She laughs again and he smiles at how her whole face lights up.

Miami 2023

It’s Miami. It’s extravagant. It's the first race at the new circuit. It’s her.

She’s dressed in a soft color, bringing out her eyes. She’s wearing the bracelet he gave her when she turned fourteen, the ring her father gave her that once belonged to her grandmother. She’s not wearing the necklace he gave her when she turned eighteen. It’s back in Monaco, still sitting on the nightstand of what’s still her side of the bed.

She has new bracelets, rings, and a new necklace. The necklace makes his jaw clench, fists tighten. He had never thought to consider that maybe she’d be with someone else after all these years. He hadn’t, not for anything more than one night.

Lewis stares at the clasp of her necklace. Wonders if it’s worth anywhere near what he gave her. Wonders who gave it to her. Some boy with a trust fund? Some guy that managed to make it to the top not because of hard work but because of connections?

He doesn’t know and it burns alongside the anger. He used to know nearly everything about her and he still knows her, he just doesn’t know the new things and that hurts worse than not knowing her at all anymore.

He watches as Geri fixes the necklace for her and wonders when exactly she got so close to Horner’s wife. “Where exactly did you get this darling?” She glows at the name, “From a jeweler that Nico loves. I can never remember the name.” The burning inside him vanishes at his name. Something had changed, he knew something new about her. Necklaces were no longer just things she wore from significant others.

Spain 2022

He cocks an eyebrow as George comes up to him nervously, messing with his hands. “You alright?” “Yeah, I just heard a weird rumor.” His eyes dart away and George hates that Toto is making him do this but doesn’t want to think about why, can feel the headache from just imagining thinking about the why. “What did you hear?” “Apparently, Y/N Rosberg,” Lewis stills at her name and curiosity clutches at George before he pushes down and away. “got snuck into the Red Bull garage.” The older man immediately scoffs. “Yeah, right. She likes arriving at the races.” He raises his hands, “that’s just what I heard.” “Well, it’s wrong. A shit rumor. Anyone who knows Mouse,” the nickname leaves his mouth before he can think, can stop it, “knows that she loves arriving on a race weekend, all the cameras, getting to show off whatever outfit she put together.” “Just what I heard, mate.” George repeats, before quickly retreating, cursing Toto out underneath his breath as soon as he rounds the corner and is far away from Lewis.

Monaco 2022

She’s not at Monaco. She’s not at Monaco. The words are on repeat in his head. He doesn’t understand it. She lived here or maybe had lived here. Monaco was small, it was hard to imagine that he had never run into her since the end of 2016 but then again he managed to dodge him. So it was possible.

He just didn’t like the idea of it. That if she still lived here that she had made sure to dodge him, to make sure they never ran into each other.

Austria 2022

She doesn’t show up at Baku, her favorite circuit, Montreal, or Silverstone, but she’s here at Austria. He can’t make sense of why she’s showing up at the races she is. Can’t make sense of why it’s only Red Bull’s garage that she visits.

It’s driving him insane trying to make sense of it. Just like he can’t make sense of another rumor that she sneaked into watch the race in Baku. This one hadn’t been quiet though from George. It had made its run on twitter and instagram, though most fans of hers just like him, knew that they were false. Her blog was still full of talking about how much she loved showing up at race weekends, feeling the energy, interacting with fans, even if they were years old. It was telling that she never deleted them. And he knew that she’d never sneak into a race.

July 2015

“Lew?” Her voice is quiet, barely a whisper, as if she’s afraid he fell asleep. He makes a humming noise, keeping his eyes closed but pressing his fingers a bit more into her back as they dance along her spine. “When do you stop?” He frowns at the vague question, eyes blinking open. “Stop what?” “When did you stop seeing me as Nico’s sister? As a kid?” His fingers pause as he thinks about her questions, wonders if he really wants to tell her, really wants her to know. He takes a deep breath, in and out of the nose before letting his fingers continue to dance. “As Nico’s sister? Probably around 2011 and Nico wasn’t hiding you away from everyone as much. I still see you a bit as his sister, don’t know if that will ever change.” She nods, “and as a kid?” “December 2013.” He’s just happy that he doesn’t remember the day. “Nicole and I joined Nico, Viv and you on that yacht.” She makes a humming noise, curling closer to him. “Nicole noticed actually.” And he has to chuckle remembering his then girlfriend's reaction. “She hadn’t seen you for a few months and had never seen you like that. Told me that I’d have to help Nico out with keeping guys like us away from you.” She huffs out a laugh, but doesn’t say anything, sensing that he’s not done. “She said that and I looked and suddenly you weren’t five years old content only in Nico’s arms, or ten crying because Keke and Nico were leaving without you again. You had grown and you were fucking gorgeous.” She stares at him, unsure of what to make of what he just told her. Not sure how she felt that it was Nicole that had made him realize that she wasn’t a little girl anymore. “You know,” she starts. “I had boobs way before I was seventeen.” Lewis sputters out a laugh and she laughs as well. “Well, I wasn’t looking.” She shakes her head, before tucking it into the crook of his neck. “No, just waited until I was a month away from being legal.” “Yeah and I waited longer to do anything about it.” “Not that much longer.” She mumbles, grinning against his skin when he pinches at her.

Spa 2022 They're making a statement, not one that says much, her prior years coming to so many races and being friendly with drivers preventing that, but it’s still a statement.

It’s the second race since she’s returned instead of arriving before all the drivers or after when making an appearance in front of the cameras that she arrives when they are. More importantly she’s arrived with Max. She’s not on his arm or holding his hand, there’s a well kept distance between them. One that reads friendly, close, but not intimate. She wasn’t quite ready to go public with him, but she was willing to make it known that she and Max were friendly with each other.

“It’s nice having you here.” She smiles at Sophie, taking her eyes briefly off the little boy in her arms. “It’s nice being here.” The couch sinks next to her and she leans into Max as he wraps an arm around her shoulder, dropping a kiss to her temple. “Looks good on you.” He murmurs, smiling at his nephew in her arms. “A baby? Or a baby that looks identical to you?” “Well I’d much prefer one that looks like both of us.” She sends him a look, but can’t not smile at his words. “Sap.” “Just for you.”

Two days later she sits in a garage for the first time in years during a race and she remembers how much she loved it. There was nothing better than watching a race from the garage.

She watches as Max manages to recover from his grid penalty, making his way through the field and winning the race and she cheers with the rest of the garage, hugs everyone she can reach. As everyone runs out to greet Max, to watch as he celebrates his win, she stays.

Max didn’t have any impulse control when high on adrenaline, she knew exactly what would happen if she went out there with him, so she went back to his driver's room and waits for him.

Dutch 2023

“Mouse!” Lewis calls and he watches as she stills while Horner stiffens at the name. It makes him itch. Horner and the rest of Red Bull had always been the odd ones out, never calling her Mouse, but rather her name or girly, the last she took a shining to.

He could still remember the first time they had heard Horner call her that. He had been ready to punch him, but she had beamed at the team principal, jumping up to give him a hug and asking him about his wife.

“Lewis.” Her voice is cool and he nearly flinches at her calling him Lewis. He had never been Lewis to her, always Lew. “How have you been? It’s been awhile.” Nearly six years, he thinks but doesn’t say. “Good. So has Nico.” He flinches at his name. “Good.” His voice is quiet. “That’s good.”

Horner wraps an arm around her shoulders, “Let’s go. We’re going to be late.” She nods and doesn’t even glance at him as she and Horner walk away, leaving him looking after her with despair and grief threatening to swallow him whole.

Japan 2022

He watches as she looks at Max with tears in her eyes as the Red Bull crew cheer as Max gives his post race interview, smiling as he thanks the fans, smiling because he won his second championship.

As soon as the interview is done, he’s launching himself back into the arms of the Red Bull crew, they all easily take his weight, patting him on the back, cheering for him. And then he watches when as soon as they release him, Max sees her. His eyes going wide with surprise at seeing her.

Lewis watches as she leans as far over the barrier as she can, wrapping her arms around his neck as his go around her waist to hold her. He watches but nothing prepares him for what happens next, the pain that strikes his heart. Because suddenly she’s kissing him, tears running down her face and Max is kissing her back like he’s done it a hundred times.

He doesn’t hear it or see it, but one of Red Bull’s cameras does and it makes it into their video to celebrate Max winning his second championship. Her saying that she’s so proud of him, never been prouder, and that she loves him and the easy way Max says it back, no hesitation.

It’s that, not her kissing Max in front of seemingly the whole world, that makes him realize that the future he had imagined, the image of her that was still the nineteen year old girl he fell in love with, is gone and has been since the night that Nico won his championship and when she came to comfort him, he only had harsh and degrading words for her.

They never could have been together again after his accusations of her feeding Nico information, blaming her for his lack of winning because she wasn’t supportive enough, his accusation of the lucky charm she was supposed to be was nothing but bad luck just like she was and always had been.

He had deluded himself into thinking that they still would end up together, that her being the love of his life, meant that he was also hers. He’s deluded himself for almost six years and now it’s not just heartbreak that fills him but shame and guilt. Because how could he have ever thought she’d want to be with him again when he never even tried to offer her an apology or to tell anyone about her.

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