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inkandapex · 2 days ago

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hot lap

Lando Norris x Y/N

Summary: Somehow, Lando Norris managed to convince his girlfriend to join him for a hot lap.

Words: 1.8k

Warnings: swearing, suggestive content

"Please, Y/N, I swear it’s totally safe. I’ve done this a million times before!" Lando pleads, his eyes wide with exaggerated sincerity.

"No," Y/N responds flatly, her eyes never leaving her phone as she continues to scroll, completely unbothered by Lando’s pleas.

Lando exhales sharply, defeated, and glances over at his teammate, Oscar, who’s lounging on the couch, a mischievous grin tugging at his lips. He shrugs nonchalantly, clearly not wanting to get involved in the couple’s dilemma.

"Don’t look at me, mate. This one’s all on you," Oscar says with a laugh, clearly enjoying the tension.

Lando's eyes widen with desperation. "But baby, look! Even Lily's doing it—right, Osc?" He turns to Oscar again, silently pleading for him to back him up.

Y/N shifts her gaze to Oscar, who merely shakes his head with an apologetic smile. She then turns back to Lando, an unimpressed expression painted across her face.

"Nice try," Y/N mutters, clearly not convinced.

"My love, I literally do this professionally. You’ll be in safe hands," Lando tries once more, taking her hands gently in his and pressing light kisses to her knuckles.

Y/N sighs, finally looking up at him. She watches her boyfriend, who is now on one knee in front of her, hovering with a hopeful grin. "When?"

Lando’s eyes light up instantly, a spark of excitement flickering in his gaze. "Miami... that’s in May"

A heavy silence fills the room, and Lando holds his breath, almost too eager to exhale. Oscar, who’s been silently shaking his leg in anticipation, shifts in his seat, clearly just as invested in the outcome.

Y/N takes a moment, her gaze unwavering, before finally letting out a small, resigned sigh. "Alright."

Lando erupts with joy, a wide grin spreading across his face. "Fuck yeah! We're gonna have so much fun!"

Oscar chuckles from across the room, shaking his head at the chaotic excitement. "You two are ridiculous, but hey, enjoy!"

------------------------------------------------------

It was a nearly perfect day in Miami. The skies were clear, the track buzzed with energy as teams prepped for the weekend, but Y/N barely noticed any of it. She stood by the pit lane, palms sweaty, fingers fidgeting anxiously.

A small group from McLaren—mostly Lando’s crew, who had grown quite fond of her—gathered outside, eager to witness what was about to unfold. They exchanged knowing smiles and hushed chuckles, watching as Lando finally approached, two helmets in hand.

"Got something for you, baby," he said, a playful glint in his eyes.

Y/N glanced over, offering him a soft, almost nervous smile. "Is it too late to back out?"

Lando chuckled, lifting one of the helmets to show her. "You sure? Had this specially made for you...look." He gently placed it in her hands.

She turned it over, eyes widening in awe. It was beautiful—her favourite color, perfectly incorporated into the sleek design. The intricate details stood out, tiny nods to things she loved the most, small symbols of their shared interests, woven together so effortlessly that it looked both classy and personal.

Her fingers traced over the design, heart swelling at the thoughtfulness behind it. "This is beautiful, Lan… Thank you."

Lando grinned, leaning in to press a kiss to her temple. "Only the best for my girl."

The crew was eagerly capturing every second—some for McLaren’s media team, others snapping away on their personal phones, already anticipating the adorable moments they’d share with the couple later on.

But as the car they were about to use rolled into the pit lane, Y/N felt her nerves creep back in. The sleek machine, now being fitted with cameras, suddenly looked a lot more intimidating up close.

"Hey..." Lando's voice was soft as he reached for her hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "We'll start slow, and if at any point you want to stop, we stop. I promise."

Y/N nodded, eyes flickering between his and the car.

Lando tilted his head. "Gotta use your words, baby. You sure you're ready?"

"Yes," she said, then let out a small, nervous laugh. "Just really nervous."

Lando smiled, taking the helmet from her hands and gently placing it over her head. His fingers worked carefully to tuck away any loose strands of hair before securing it properly.

"Perfect," he murmured, his smirk growing as he admired her. "Gorgeous."

Then, with zero hesitation, he leaned in and pressed a quick, sweet kiss to her lips.

Y/N felt her nerves settle—just a little.

"Gotta film a quick intro, then we’re heading out, alright?" Lando guided her toward the car, helping her into the seat. His hands moved with ease as he fastened her seatbelt, making sure everything was secure before stepping back and shutting the door.

As he walked around to his side, Y/N took a deep breath. This was happening.

Lando did his usual intro, flashing a grin at the camera as he introduced his guest—Y/N—and explained what they were about to do. As they pulled out of the pit lane and onto the track, he kept stealing glances at her every few seconds.

“I’m begging you to keep your eyes on the road, Norris, I swear—” Y/N clung onto her seatbelt like her life depended on it.

“I am, baby! Don’t worry!” Lando laughed, nudging the cue cards toward her. “Alright, come on, you gotta ask me the questions.”

“Lando. Both hands on the wheel!”

Lando couldn’t help but chuckle at her panic. “I got it, baby, we’re alright. The faster we get through the questions, the quicker we’re done.”

Y/N sighed, taking a deep breath before focusing on the cards in front of her. “Alright… Who would you consider your closest friends on the grid?”

Lando thought for a moment, nodding as he kept his eyes on the track. “A few people… I wanna say Oscar, ‘cause I’m with him a lot, Max too, since we both live in Monaco. And Carlos.”

Y/N hummed in acknowledgment before moving on. “Other than your first win in Miami, which other win would you consider your favorite?”

Lando’s smile softened. “Oh, easy. Singapore.”

Y/N turned to him, intrigued. “Why Singapore?”

“The win itself felt amazing, but the fact that I had you there to celebrate with me after… that was the highlight of my night. Just us walking around the city at night… I loved that.”

Y/N chuckled softly. “You’re cute.”

“See, baby? You’re doing great. This isn’t so bad, huh?” Lando shot her a grin as he picked up the pace.

Y/N immediately sensed it. “I can feel you going even faster, so I’m gonna speed-run these now—” She quickly glanced at the next card, eyes widening as she let out a loud laugh. “Wait, what are these questions?! Lights on or lights off?!”

Lando let out his signature cackle, barely containing his amusement. “Lights on,” he answered smoothly, smirking.

“You shouldn’t have answered that!”

“Gotta give the people what they want, baby.”

“Alright, wet or dry?”

“Wet—” Lando answers immediately. “—Wait, you mean like a race or—”

“Oh my gosh, Lan! Of course, race conditions!” Y/N looks at him, jaw agape.

Lando only laughs, his eyes twinkling. “Right, dry then.”

After a few more laughs and playful back-and-forth, Lando finally pulls over by the pit lane and parks the car. He gets out, moving to the passenger seat and helping Y/N out of the driver’s seat.

What caught her off guard however, was when Lando got in the passenger seat.

“Wait... wait, what are you doing?” Y/N stands outside the car, completely confused, still processing what’s happening.

Lando smirks, already buckling his seatbelt “Your turn to drive now, my love.”

“Oh no. No no no no,” Y/N laughs, shaking her head in disbelief. But that laugh slowly fades as she looks around and notices the staff nodding at her, confirming that yes—it was indeed her turn to do a lap.

“Wait, you’re kidding?”

-----------------------------------------------

It was almost comedic—Y/N sat up straight, her hands firmly gripping the steering wheel, as she drove at a cautious city-limit speed around the track.

Lando, watching her with an amused expression, couldn’t help himself. “Baby, we can go a bit faster, you know that, right?”

“I’m aware, Lando, yes. Thank you,” Y/N replied, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

Lando laughed, glancing out the window. “I swear I just saw Carlos pass us on his bike.”

Y/N let out a genuine laugh, finally speeding up a little. “The trust the team has with me to let me drive you around on a race weekend is insane.”

Lando pulled out a set of cards, trying to get back on track with their Q&A. “Alright, ready? What’s your favourite part of race weekends?”

Y/N smiled softly. “I love seeing you do what you love doing. I can see how passionate you are about racing—it’s nice seeing you do what you do best.”

Lando pouted and nodded. “That’s sweet, baby.”

Y/N quickly added with a laugh, “And the coffee at Ferrari is top-notch, so maybe that too.”

Lando raised an eyebrow, holding up his hand in a mock salute. “Shoutout to our friends at Ferrari.” Then he grinned mischievously, turning to face Y/N. “Other than Oscar and I, who do you root for during a race?”

Y/N didn’t hesitate. “Oh, easy. Alex.”

Lando smirked, as if he had known that was coming. “Thought so.” He turned to the camera. “If Y/N is not at McLaren, she’s either having coffee at Ferrari with Charles and his girlfriend or at Williams with Alex.”

“Albono is my paddock bestie" Y/N laughed, "Well, Lily is, but she’s not always here, so I gotta settle for Alex every now and then.” She added teasingly

Lando chuckled and added, “Carlos being at Williams now also means she spends more time there too. McLaren’s getting kinda jealous, not gonna lie.”

Y/N shot him a playful glance. “You mean you're getting jealous?”

Lando gave her an exaggerated side-eye. “Tomato, tomato.”

The two breezed through the deck of cards as Y/N expertly navigated the track. Finally, she pulled into the pitlane, where the crew was waiting. They cheered and applauded as she slowed to a stop.

Y/N stepped out of the car with a grin, taking a bow in front of the crew, her cheeks flushed with a shy smile. “Thank you guys for trusting me with your driver.”

Lando walked over to her, helping remove her helmet while still filming the outro for the video.

Once they wrapped up the filming, the two of them strolled back toward his driver room, hands intertwined. Lando shot her a beaming smile, clearly happy with how everything turned out.

“That was fun, right?” he asked, his eyes gleaming.

Y/N stopped in her tracks, turning to plant a quick kiss on his cheek. “It was… thank you for today.”

Lando grinned, pulling her closer. “Thank you, baby. Gotta make you drive more often now. My turn to be the passenger princess.”

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velourmobius · 3 days ago

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Mutt

resume: f!reader matches caleb’s freak.

mdni. 18+ content!!!

tags: dirty talking, scent kink, usage of gege , plenty of good girls and good boys, praises, slight puppy play, squ1rting, feasting on the kitty, f1ngering, piss kink, multiple orgasms, needy caleb, caleb comes handsfree like a loser, slightly yanderes vibes from both characters

pairing: caleb x reader

word count : 4.3k words

a/n.: i was horny and inspired by a conversation with other lads player about our smut hc’s. it’s my first fic for caleb ❤�� next up should be sylus c:

It was so wrong of you to be doing this. You tried to convince yourself that you couldn’t help your actions, that your actions were caused by how much you love him. Still, it was hard to justify stealing his silk briefs from the hamper in the bathroom.

“Aah- fuck, gege.” Your whimpers were as quiet as you could muster yourself to be.

You barely knew how you ended up in the bedroom you had in Caleb’s house. You had no idea what had led you to get on your elbows and knees, his briefs tightly secured in your fist that you pressed against your nose and mouth. You inhaled his scent, filling your lungs with it while you rubbed your sensitive clit in tight circles with your other hand. It wasn’t the first time you’ve stolen briefs but it certainly was your first time touching yourself using one. It sickened your mind that the first thought you had was “Why didn’t I do this before?”.

When you and Caleb lived at grandma’s house, you’d occasionally steal his underwear. You’d use his shirts to rub one out once in a while, but you thought that going from his underwear. His soiled underwear might be going a little too far but man, did you feel stupid for not doing this before. His musk was making you much more wet than you’ve ever been. The moment you saw that pair of undies sitting on top of all the other clothes, it was almost like the damn thing was sparkling.

You began getting wet, at that moment, recalling your misdeeds of the past. Shuddering, you grabbed it and looked it over. It was light grey, the pouch of it slightly stretched out and well used. The thing that really caught your attention was the darker spot on it. The stain made your mouth water, your mind already wandering at the feasibility of it being either a cum or piss stain. Could Colonel Xia have gotten aroused at work, thinking about a certain someone and needing relief.

It didn’t matter much more now that you were smelling it. You felt yourself get high off of it, rapidly approaching your climax. “ G-gege, aah, fuck, I’m so close.” You gasp, shoving your hand slightly down and pressing your digit against your fluttering hole. Pushing inside, you sighed happily. Instead of moving your hand, you fucked back against your finger quickly. The squelching coming from your cunt was louder than you expected, sounding so perverse that you felt your face flushing a bit more than it already was. The coil that had built up in the pit of your stomach got tighter as the seconds passed, your pace only increasing until it finally snapped.

Pushing the bundled up briefs against your face, you gasped out a long drawn out moan while your entire body jerked. A gush of wetness sprayed out of you, wetting your fresh panties way quicker than usual. Still, you weren’t satisfied. You needed more. Panting, you continued to move your hips slower. Your essence was going down your thighs, as well as dripping down your hand. Your mind was hazy, your gege’s musk making you dumb and eager for more.

And the reason behind all of your moans and squeals? He was standing by the door, having opened it slightly since he didn’t get an answer from you after he knocked on the door. Caleb was frozen in place, not budging. The moment he’d opened the door, he was greeted by the sight of you. You, with your hand shoved in your panties and fucking yourself?

That was too much, even for him. Caleb felt his brain short-circuiting, unable to believe at the sight before him. On the other hand, his dick immediately believed his sight and grew rock hard. His meimei. There she was, touching herself to him? His wildest dream was coming to life, in the most unexpected way.

The sexual tension between them had grown so strong that Caleb, certified master cuddler, had begun to refrain from indulging. He was constantly scared of popping off a boner whenever you pressed up against him for too long. There was nothing he wanted more than to be with you, but the possibility of messing up the relationship he had cultivated with you terrified him.

You’d come back to him after he made you wait, you’d forgiven him for his possessive behavior. You were almost like a saint to him. But this? Seeing you get yourself off while you moaned for him, that shattered the illusion he had of you being untouchable. You were more than a saint. You were his goddess and he was a simple humble servant.

“O-oh fuck.. Please, please, please, hah, m’cumming.”

Your moans began getting louder again, growing more desperate and needy. Caleb wasn’t faring any better than you, his hand having slipped down into his sweatpants and gripping his erection. He’d been leaking since he first caught sight of you so his strokes were quick and slick, light headed with pleasure. His strokes were growing quicker, his breathing growing heavier. He put his free hand against the door, clumsily pushing it slightly more open.

The creaking of the door was enough to get your attention, your head snapping to the source of the noise. Caleb slipped his hand out of his sweats seconds before your half lidded eyes widened, looking right into Caleb’s purple orbs and you gasped loudly, letting out a squeal.

Turning your back to him again, you buried your face in your pillow. Reaching back, you grabbed the blanket that had slid off your body. Not a word was said by neither of you, yet Caleb didn’t walk away. He stood there, looking at you unsure if walking away was the right thing to do now.

“Pips?” Caleb rasped, his voice wrecked. You swore this had to be a nightmare. It couldn’t be possible that he’d seen you? Why was he there? Why didn’t he knock on the door? Why didn’t he stop you once he saw what you were doing?! Did he hear you call out to him? Another question that you tried to bury in the layers of your complicated mind was simple and the only one who’s answer actually mattered to you - Did he enjoy watching you? - You shook your head, tightening your grip on your pillow. “Don’t say anything..” You whimpered.

“I know this is not one of the best moments, I’ll grant you that, but we hafta talk. This is..something we really need to discuss.” His voice was closer, the sound of his footsteps getting nearer. “I know you feel embarrassed. I just need to see your face and make sure you’re okay. Please, pipsqueak?” He wasn’t trying but he knew he sounded like he was begging. He needed you to look him in the eyes, so you could see all the love and desire that swirled within them. Just one glance and you’d know that if you let him, he’d be your everything. He’d be your sun and you’d be the moon he’d been chasing after for so long. “To say what, Caleb? You..This.. God, fuck me.” You grumbled, turning your head opposite of the side where he was standing.

“You have no idea how much I want to.” The words stumbled out of Caleb’s mouth, unable to hold back the retort. He watched your body tense up under your blanket, unmoving for a few seconds before you slowly peeled it back and glanced at him. “W-what..?” Now, you saw two things.

The first was Caleb looked down at you, his eyebrows furrowed slightly and his bottom lip tucked between his teeth. His cheeks were bright red, flushed like he was drunk. His eyes were looking right back into yours, a familiar emotion within them.

The second was his bulge. It was, err, larger than you’d imagined and obviously hard in his sweatpants that did absolutely nothing to hide. There was a wet patch on it and you really had to contain yourself from licking your lips. “That’s all your fault, (y/n).” Caleb’s eyes followed yours, a slightly smug look appearing in his eyes while a little grin curled his mouth up.

Rolling your eyes, you huffed at his suggestion and found it in you to pout at him. “I thought you said you just wanted to make sure I was okay.” You retorted back to him. “Yeah, I did.” Caleb sighed, sitting down at the edge of your bed. Raising an eyebrow, you looked at his broad muscular back ,then up to the nape of his neck. You wanted to muster the energy for one of your signature replies to his every action but this time, the words got stuck in your throat. “D’ya think we could’ve avoided this by being more..straight forward with each other?” Caleb asked. He did his best to suppress it, really he did, but you heard the tremor in his voice. It was like everything hung up on that single question of his.

“You mean,us being in love and skirting around it.” You threw out. Caleb’s body tensed up, watching and hearing him take a long deep shaky breath. “Yeah..Exactly that.” Even if he was facing away from you, you could see how red his ears had become. “You know.. Regardless of it all, I’ve considered myself to be yours. Only yours.” You mumbled, laying on your left side and holding your right arm out.

Your fingers reached their target once you felt the hem of Caleb’s white t-shirt, tugging on it slightly. A shuddering gasp escaped his mouth, rolling his shoulders as he took another deep breath but he didn’t budge. “Gege..” Licking your lips nervously, you grabbed the blanket that was on you and pushed it down slightly before getting on your knees. Feeling the mattress dipping behind him, Caleb couldn’t help but flinch.

He heaved a sigh, feeling your arms wrapping around his shoulders. Your breast pressed up against him, your stiffened buds flattened against his muscular back. “Fuck..” Caleb whimpered out, revealing in you pressing yourself all up on him. He immediately relaxed into your hold, groaning at you nuzzling your cheek against his hair. “ I’ll be yours. You’re the only person I’ve ever had eyes for, Caleb.” You purred, pressing a kiss on his red ear. “Be mine, gege.” This last word, the soft and suggestive tone you used, broke him entirely. He turned his head and you backed up a little, but he grabbed your chin and chased your lips.

The first kiss was chaste and soft, almost like he was afraid you’d break into a million pieces. The second though was full of yearning and lust, your hands finding the soft strands of Caleb’s hair. He smelled like home. He was your home. You bit his bottom lip gently, drinking in the gasp he let out. You took that opportunity to dip your tongue into his mouth, deepening the kiss further and feeling Caleb’s tongue against yours. A moan slipped out of you, making Caleb’s cock throb after he finally got to hear those sweet sounds from your mouth again.

“C-caleb..” You cooed, pressing your forehead against him. “Yeah..?” He nuzzled his nose against yours. “You…want to help me out? With what I was doing before you rudely interrupted me.” You chided, a light playful tone to your voice. You didn’t even finish your sentence and your very own puppy boy was nodding furiously, almost throwing himself on his knees and looking up to you eagerly.

All that missed was his furry ears and tail to complete the look. “Please..” He groaned, watching you move closer to the edge of the bed and sitting there with your legs spread. After a quick reflection, you placed one of your legs on his shoulder to give him more space for him to admire what was between your legs. Your panties, useless with how wet they’ve been, clung to your puffy pussy while you sensitive clit throbbed. Your poor empty hole was clenching around nothing, your walls dying to have something inside.

Caleb was staring at you, eyes boring into your panty clad cunt. Now that he was getting a closer look, he was mesmerized at how drenched and sloppy you’d been for him. “That’s all fo’ me, pips? I make you this wet without even touching you.” Caleb murmured, pressing a kiss on your thigh and falling in love all over again after your entire body shuddered.

His kisses only grew more greedy, sucking on your skin and leaving hickeys. He chased those with various bite marks, leaving a reminder of who you belonged to. “S’ all mine. You’re mine.” Caleb growled, nipping at your skin. You whimpered, moaning softly at his touches while you felt your core aching. “You’ve gotten so much more wet, pips. Do you like getting marked by your gege? People will know that you’re my possession, my precious girl.” Caleb’s darkened gaze was almost hypnotizing, making you feel you were falling into the abyss of them.

With glazed eyes, you watched him inch toward his target and stop once he was facing your pussy. You squirmed when you felt his warm breath fanning against your damp panties, making them slightly cooler against your burning core. Without a single word from him, you felt his tongue flattening against your leaking slit and he licked a broad strip, flicking the tip of his tongue against your sensitive swollen clit. The way you arched your back off the bed and moaned loudly had your new lover quivering with newfound pleasure. “You taste so good..” Caleb noted, grabbing the seat of your panties and pushing it to the side to give it a direct lick. A shuddering breath came out of your mouth, feeling Caleb lapping at your pussy greedily.

He wrapped his arm around the leg that was on his shoulder, tugging you closer to him. “G-gege, it feels so good. Ah, fuck, keep going, please..” You cried out, hips bucking onto his face. The coil in your abdomen was growing tighter with every lick and suck Caleb gave you. The moans that reverberted against your pussy made your eyes roll back and your jaw slack, gripping the sheets with one hand and the other buried in Caleb’s air. You did everything in your power to not break eye contact with him, his steady gaze on yours while he ate you out like a man starved. Your grip on his hair tightened after he moved back slightly, using his middle and ring finger to spread your lips. “So pretty f’me, sweets. I think your greedy little hole needs to be filled, am I wrong?”

Thinking has become too hard and formulating. Your mouth only opened to let out the softest coos and moans, exclusively for Caleb’s ears. “P-please, gege, m-more.” You rasped, feeling his nose bumping against your swollen clit while his tongue teased your entrance. “When you sound so sweet, I can’t possibly say no to you.” Your mouth dropped open in a silent cry, eyes wide open and inhaling sharply.

You were about to come apart on him, trying your best to hold on. Your efforts proved to be in vain when your vision went white, every muscle in your body tensing up once you felt Caleb’s press his tongue inside your clenching hole. Another squirt escaped your body, splashing on him and he greedily drank you up. You made a strangled noise, making your new lover look up to you and he took in the most beautiful sight of his life. “You came so good for me, baby. What a good girl you are.” Here you were, coming apart because of him. Your glassy eyes, mouth agape with a hint of drool spilling from it. “Aah..Haah..F-fuck.” You stuttered. Your body was shuddering, clenching hard around his tongue. You let out a soft sigh when you felt Caleb’s hand caressing your face, making you look at him.

His beautiful purple eyes were almost completely engulfed in black, gazing back at you with more desire than you’d ever seen from someone else. “I love you.” Caleb cooed, blinking slowly at you. As sweet and pure those words were, his actions were nothing but. Your gege began to fuck his tongue in and out of your hole, eating you out earnestly while you moaned up a storm, exclusively for his ears. His nose was pressing up against your puffy clit, sending sparks of pleasure up your spine. You bucked your hips against his face, tight grip on his soft hair while you grinded against him. You heard him hum and groan against your cunt, pulling his tongue out of your fluttering pussy and sucking your sensitive bud into his mouth instead.

Your free hand gripped the sheets, tightening your hold on Caleb. You repeated his name like it was prayer, mewling and moaning. He was rocketing you toward another powerful orgasm while he let two of his thick fingers play and tease your entrance. “ Come on, baby. You're gonna cum for me again, right? Be good for me and hold on, okay?” Caleb purred, dipping his digits inside of your tight cunt. He groaned, feeling your wet walls clinging and fluttering around his fingers. He watched how you threw your head back, exposing the column of his neck and reminding him that he’d have to mark that up too before sending you back to work. “Just like that!” You squealed, his fingers rubbing against the spongy spot inside of you.

“Aah.. This spot feels nice for you, doesn’t it?” Caleb teased, slowly fucking his fingers inside of you until he was knuckle deep. “More. I-I need more, please.” . You squirmed, feeling so much more full than you’d ever been with your own fingers. Instead of responding verbally, he opted for sucking your clit back into his mouth while he fucked his fingers into your pussy at his pace. He closed his eyes for a few moments, listening to how your pussy squelched whenever he shoved his fingers inside or feeling how your cunt was literally dripping so much that his hand was soaked all the way down to his wrist. Whenever your cunt would start pulsating around his fingers, he’d slow down and lessen the suction around your clit.

“Caleb!” You whined, trying to grind against his face. “Why are you edging me? I want to cum!” He opened his eyes and looked at you, a dark look that was unfamiliar swimming in his orbs and that scared you a little. “You’ve let other men touch you, haven’t you? You let them defile your perfect self. Now that I got you right here, I’m gonna make sure that the only man you’ll ever think about is gonna be me and me only.” His possessive tone sounded exhilarating to you, his eyes looked unfocused and crazy while he glanced at you. “So, you’ll be a good girl and you’ll wait until I’m done feasting. Your pussy is mine, like the rest of your body.” You nodded furiously at his words, your pussy fluttering around his fingers. He continued edging you, bringing you close to your breaking point while he bit your inner thighs, licking his bites lovingly after each one. Bruises were already starting to form while the ache between your legs only seemed to grow.

“You’re being so good for your gege. You’re soaked for me, so close to cumming, hmm?” He asked, already knowing the answer but feeling the need to tease you further. You let out a string of curse and mumbled words, trying your hardest to muster up your words. Sadly for you, each time you tried to speak, Caleb would scissor his fingers inside of you and make you lose your train of thoughts.

“Do you want to cum, baby? You wanna cum on gege’s fingers, don’t you?” He asked, blowing air on your clit and watching you jolt. You nodded rapidly, the arousal so heavy that you almost felt drunk on it. “ Words, love.” Caleb noted. You did your best to think words up, feeling like he’d taken everything from you while he was fucking his fingers, in and out, of you. “Need to cum, please, Caleb? Let me cum for you. I promise you'll be the single man, no, person, in my mind. I-I need it, please.” You begged, tears threatening to roll down your flushed cheeks. Your childhood friend felt all the moisture in his mouth dry up, feeling you tighten up around his digits.

He resumed the relaxed pace he was using earlier, slowly increasing his speed while you moaned up a storm. You’d let go of Caleb’s hair to grip your breasts with both of your hands, rolling up your shirt and rolling your nipples in your fingers. Caleb’s neglected throbbing cock was aching painfully against his sweats, twitching every few seconds while he touched you. The sight of you fondling your own nipples was hotter than he’d ever imagined, so lewd and perverse. “Alright, love. You wanna cum for me? Let it all out for me. I’ll take what you got for me.” Caleb whispered, flicking his tongue against your clit before giving it a final suck and a nibble of his teeth.

Your back arched off the bed, a scream ripped out of your throat while you squirted against his face. Your vision faded to white, your heart buzzing in your ears while he had your edged out release all over his face and tongue. Your entire body was sticky, covered in sweat while your pussy spasmed wildly. “Good girl, what a good girl you are.” Caleb cooed, his breath shaky as he felt his cock throbbing hard in his pants, right on the verge of cumming. He fucked you through your orgasm, watching the tremors of your body slow down while you slowly began relaxing until you were limp in his grasp. “You taste so f’ckin good, babe.” He growled, lapping at your pussy. “C-caleb, stop or.. I n-need to go use the..” You gasped, feeling the painful pang of your filled bladder.

You didn’t need to finish your sentence. Caleb’s lips curled up in a grin, pressing his mouth against your pussy while he pressed his hand down at the base of your abdomen . A shocked sob escaped your lips, a weak stream of piss shooting out of your urethra and into his waiting mouth. The stream quickly turned larger, filling his mouth with the bitter liquid that Caleb swallowed down greedily. You wanted to be grossed out, really you did, but there was something so arousing about him wanting everything that came out of you.

With a loud pop and soft kiss on your pussy, he placed his chin on your mound and looked at you with his mouth still slightly full. His glittering purple eyes ,satisfied and hazy, with everything he’d squeezed out of you. His mouth was still half-full, slowly drinking all of you. You couldn’t just let him have this, your competitive nature rearing its head because of the stupid smug grin on his handsome face. “Come on, puppy. Swallow it all up. I didn’t mark my territory on your face for you to not drink it all up.” You breathed, caressing Caleb’s cheek and dragging your manicured nails on it.

Never did he think those sick depraved words would be all he needed to be pushed toward his own release, painting the inside of his sweatpants with thick ropes of creamy cum while his dick jerked and throbbed handsfree. “Good boy. You’re such a good boy, Caleb.” A lazy grin plastered on your face, watching how your gege’s face was twisted up in pleasure, his mouth slightly opened, his eyes squeezed tight. He panted against your skin, trying to steady himself, his legs feeling like jello.

It took him a little while but soon enough, he climbed up in bed with you even if his nether’s felt uncomfortable with his cooling release. Laying on his back, you straddled his hips and caught the confused look on his face. “Give me your phone.” You asked quietly. He didn’t question and handed it to you, watching how you fiddled with it for several minutes before handing it back to him. “What did you do, pips?” He asked, not even bothering to check your handy work as it would take away from his time admiring you.

“ I installed a tracker on your phone and deleted every single contact that isn’t relevant to your job.” You said, a slightly wild look piercing through your calm gaze. “You’re mine, Caleb. You don’t need anybody else but me, right? You don’t need to talk to anyone, just me.” Your obsession looked back at you, his smile slowly growing. The implication of what you’d just done sinking into him rapidly and his only reaction was to give you the biggest grin he could muster.

“Alright, pipsqueak. That’s only fair since I spy on you. Later, I’ll delete all the male contacts you got. If you need help on missions, wait for me instead of that Xavier guy you told me about. I hate other men talking to you. They can’t help you like I can.” Caleb sat, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulled you closer to him. You buried your face in his muscular neck, licking a stripe of it before sucking at the hot skin and biting it harshly.

“Aah,so now it’s your turn? Go on ahead, baby, mark me up. People need to be aware that I’m your property.” He moaned, putting his hand against the back of your head, tangling his fingers in your hair ,and keeping you there. Needless to say, Caleb felt himself growing harder quickly with your actions. You didn’t stop until he was covered in red, purple and blue bruises all over his neck, chest and..other parts. Your puppy though, loved every single moment and was nothing but a very good boy.

tag: @mcdepressed290

#lads caleb smut #caleb smut #lnds caleb #caleb #love and deepspace #love and deepspace caleb #lads x reader #caleb x reader #caleb x you #lads smut #lnds smut #love and deepspace smut #lads caleb

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doubletroubletag · 2 days ago

Text

New update for Tag In/Tag Out: Double Trouble!

I had to remake the blog because linking to Comicfury got the old one shadow banned.(Best read on Comicfury, check pinned post)

I'm back to updating for April, at least!

transcript under the readmore:

[Comic ID:

[Page 1] Siffrin yawns before heading into their tent. Meanwhile, Odile heads into hers to the right.

[Page 2] We cut to Siffrin lying on a blanket, all tucked and ready for bed. They have their night clothes but not their eyepatch on. We them narrate their thoughts.

Siffrin: (Once everyone's asleep you should go find Loop.) (Don't sleep.) (Don't sleep.)

They then closes their eyes.

Siffrin: (Don't…) z z z…

Rustling sounds are heard, Siffrin sits up, disoriented.

[Page 3] Someone is standing outside the tent, silhouetted.

Siffrin sits up completely, jaw slack in shock.

[Page 4] They relax. Siffrin, narrating their thoughts: (Ah, it's only Loop.)

Only for Loop to pull back the tent door, showing that they're covered in a dark liquid substance.

Siffrin screams, clutching their blanket: LOOOOP?!

[Page 5] Loop has an intense expression as they whisper: [Shut your blinding mouth.]

Siffrin sits still, in horror.

[Page 6] Loop, now fully in the tent, is drawn cartoonishly as they gesture to the tent door. Loop: [I need your help, so stop screaming~] Siffrin, still nervous: (Oh..)

They place a hand over their mouth, sweating: (Who- What did you kill?)

Loop looks away, licking the liquid on their chin casually: [Berries.] Siffrin, offscreen: (OH, THANK THE STARS.)

[Page 7] Now the two of them are calm. Loop: (But, I'm still hungry. Where's my dinner bowl?) Siffrin smiles back at them before turning away, in shame.

Loop's smile twists into a strained grin: [YOU FORGOT I NEEDED FOOD, DIDN'T YOU?] Siffrin hides their head under the blanket: You didn't use to eat before!

[Page 8] Cut to the two, now outside. Siffrin is pouring water and then scrubbing Loop's cloak with a bar of soap.

Siffrin, grimacing: (Couldn't you have taken your cloak off first?)

Loop, hand on hip: [Aaaand, Couldn't you have fed me a proper meal? This is allyour doing, Stardust.]

[Page 9] Siffrin glares while Loop acts innocent and bashful. Siffrin turns away, gritting their teeth: (I said "sorry.") Loop: [Scrub harder, or we'll be here all night~]

id end.]

#isat #isat spoilers #2hats spoilers #in stars and time #comic #human loop #isat siffrin #isat loop #long post

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clockwayswrites · 1 day ago

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Fresh Birb! Part 32

masterpost

“Thanks for the excuse to get some fresh air,” Danny said. He sounded grateful enough that Jason felt a little bad for using the ‘stroll around the yard’ as an way to gather some intel.

“Hey, trust me, I get how overwhelming the manor can get,” Jason said, “and there are a lot of us in house right now. It’s easier in small doses for sure.”

“I could see that,” Danny agreed. “But there’s also something nice about the full house. It’s all very… alive feeling.”

The words were more melancholy than they should be. They were more like how Jason, who knew the feeling of death all too well, might say them. It brought troubling thoughts to mind.

“Yeah, that can be nice about it. Sure is quieter if I’m not here or at Roy’s,” Jason agreed after maybe too long a moment.

“Is Roy that much more talkative when it’s just the two of you?”

“Oh, no. Well, yeah, but it’s more about his little girl, Lian. She’s three and a half and an absolute handful most days. She’s also at that age where she’s pretty much narrating her own life in half understandable babble so there’s just a lot of constant noise.”

Danny chuckled. “I bet. Stayed with a friend for a bit when I was between jobs and stuck there for a few months by a non-complete clause. Her one kid was that age at the time and the oldest five. I didn’t know just how much everything there was when having kids that age. It made me actually feel a little sorry for my parents.”

“You the youngest, oldest, or middle?”

“Youngest. I’ve got one older sister, Jasmine,” Danny said. “You could sorta say there’s a half a sibling too. I basically grew up with my best friend and there were some weeks I spent more time at his house than ours.”

“That close to him?” Jason asked.

“Yeah. That and it was easier, sometimes, to not be at home.”

“Oh.”

That implied some unfortunate things that Jason hadn’t quite been expecting. Danny seemed pretty well adjusted. He was even good at handling Damian, but Jason supposed that maybe part of that was because Danny had been through his own issues.

Danny just shrugged. “I have a life long friend out of it. We don’t see each other in person much these days since we’re on other sides of the country, but we still talk plenty.”

Jason gave a soft hum and, a beat later, asked, “What made you end up in Gotham of all places?”

“Wayne Enterprises, actually,” Danny said. “The rep in the industry as place to work is unparalleled really, especially for what I want to do.”

“And what’s that?”

“Help people,” Danny said, honestly and with a crooked little smile. “Which I know sounds cheesy, but I really wanted to create things that help people. It’s not like I mind making a better cellphone battery or anything, but it’s nice to know that I get to work on things that help not just with the little, everyday issues but also the big, life changing ones. The fact that those things get to help the city I live in too is a real plus.”

“Gotham has a way of getting to you like that,” Jason said.

“Yeah,” Danny replied softly, gaze in the direction of the Gotham sky line.

And then a scream split the air.

Not a human scream, thankfully, but a repeated screech that had both of them starting and looking around for the source. The screech turned to a warbling clucking as Jerry emerged from behind the landscaping. His tail was high and spread, his wing tips brushed the ground, and he was looking almost shockingly colorful.

“A turkey?”

“Damian’s.”

“Damian has a turkey,” Danny said slowly.

“And a cow,” Jason said. “Cat, dog, a few snakes. He tried to keep a rat but Alfred stopped that pretty quickly.”

Danny rubbed at his temple. “This is why he knew how to take care of wings, isn’t it?”

Jason tried not to smile. “That came up, huh?”

“He’s been sending Bruce information about it,” Danny answered.

Jerry made another loud warble and struck what Jason could only describe as a pose.

“So… does he do this often?”

“His name is Jerry, and nope,” Jason said and pulled out his phone.

Jerry strutted closer to Danny, tail feathers shaking.

“Oh… oh,” Danny said with the tone of someone for who horrible realization was dawning. “Can you, ah, talk him down?”

“I’m afraid I’m morally obligated to film this,” Jason said somberly. He couldn’t hold back his smirk any longer.

Danny shot him a withering look and started to back up towards the Manor. “Really.”

“Really. Good luck.”

“Well, fuck,” Danny said and then took off running.

Jerry followed at top speed with a scream.

Jason sent the video to Bruce. ‘You have competition.’

#dp x dc #birdritch #Danny/Bruce #spirit halloween ship

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syoddeye · 2 days ago

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For some reason, the thought of reader being a werewolf too in the Soap neighbor thing seems like an ironic/funny idea. Like, maybe reader was bit and changed, but has no idea how to navigate the wolf world. I mean, you can't exactly google correct info on something that "isn't real". Plus, it's such a big world reader had never actually run into another wolf. It seemed safer for the reader to keep their secret werewolf existence hidden. Maybe reader's never seen another wolf before and likes their safe solitary little world. Only to then be confronted by Soap when they finally open their door.

ohhh. i like this twist. imagine you’re minding your business, living your recently upturned life, dealing with your new circumstances on your own. you’ve never seen another wolf before, other than the bastard who bit you, so you’re just figuring things out as you go. maybe keeping a journal or something like, “note to self: raw steak cravings = normal, do not eat neighbor’s cat.”

but then you smell them. someone like you. you catch whiffs of them at the building’s entrance. by the post boxes. on warm days when everyone’s windows are open. that’s the kind of day it is when you spot him on his balcony for the first time, and the thick scent of his sweat carries across the gap. there’s a certain doggish undertone to it.

the staring problem begins.

and it is humiliating.

it makes your instincts go haywire. you jot down feverish notes about what it does to you. how you keep finding yourself creeping through the blinds. it isn’t normal. none of it is normal. but you have no idea what to do. you can’t just outright ask, can you? hey, i smelled you from across the building and i really dig your musk.

of course, then you’re caught peeping, and he winds up at your door. you have to open it. what other choice do you have? you get the feeling it will open with or without your permission. you throw the deadbolt but keep the chain hooked out of some remaining shred of self-preservation. then you crack the door open.

it is pungent, to say the least. he didn’t even bother to throw a shirt on. looks like he ran here, too, judging by his heaving, hairy chest. he stares down at you, unblinking, his mouth set in a line. you go tongue-tied. he must be furious.

after a beat, he plants a hand on the door and gives it a push. just a nudge. but it’s enough—the flimsy chain strains, pops out of its track, and snaps into pieces. you don’t look down when it lands on your feet. you’re too busy watching the slow curl of his smile. his nostrils flaring.

“...yer jokin’. a pretty she-wolf? right under my nose?”

#sy asks #i am a werewolf enjoyer not a werewolf writer so go easy on me #something about soap + scents feels so right #soap x reader

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plutotheplum · 3 days ago

Text

chapter one | the proposal

multi x fem!reader

chapter summary: the spring season seems to have brought on an unrelenting case of baby fever. being single is a problem though... so who better to ask than your five, handsome friends?

cw: modern au, fluff, kissing, mentions of pregnancy, mentions of sex

wc: 1.7k

a/n: first chapter is here! something short and sweet before we get into the smut teehee ₍ᐢ. ̫.ᐢ₎

also on ao3!

series masterlist | next up: the magician

“I want a baby.”

Usually you’d be sitting across from your head-over-heels, doting, caring husband that would be willing to do anything for you whilst having this conversation. It’s an important decision after all, having a baby and taking care of it, having the finances to dote on your child. It’d be nice… except for the fact you don’t have a husband, or a boyfriend for that matter.

Instead, you’re sitting across from five men, currently lumped together uncomfortably on your couch, staring at you with slight bewilderment in their eyes. It was your best shot, inviting them over.

Besides, you’d decided that it was the spring season that had caught you in its snare. Going out to a cafe, taking a stroll in the park, perusing a bookstore; babies were everywhere. It hadn’t bothered you so much until you’d set your eyes on one of the cutest, chubbiest babies you’d ever seen, its little hand curling around your finger when you’d been waiting in line to buy your book.

Yeah… you’d gotten baby fever.

“A baby?” Rafayel asks, his brows raising, “are- are you even ready for a baby?”

“I’ve thought about it,” you reply, fingers fidgeting nervously in your lap, your eyes drifting across each of them, “a lot. I even made a short presentation if any of you would like to-”

Zayne shakes his head subtly and you sink back down into the chair, having gotten up half-way.

“I am ready,” you breathe out finally, “I’m not getting any younger and I just think it’d be nice, y’know? I wouldn’t feel so lonely anymore.”

“Why’d you invite all of us over at once?” Caleb asks, his hands folding behind his head, drawing a sound of annoyance from Xavier who he elbows in the process.

“I didn’t want to have the conversation five times,” you sigh, “besides, I figured none of you would actually agree to this. I mean, it’s sort of crazy. Do I sound crazy?”

“Maybe a little frantic,” Sylus muses, propping his elbow up on the armrest of your couch, his head tilting lazily to watch you.

“There are other options,” Zayne offers, “other than what you’re proposing. I could help you look, if you wanted. I know someone I went to medical school with, maybe they could help?”

You flush lightly, shaking your head. “I um- I want to do it naturally,” you squeak out, cheeks growing hotter when you spy the grin on Caleb’s face. “Less- less complications that way, which is why I decided to ask all of you.”

“Well,” Caleb yawns, stretching his arms above his head, managing to knock one against Xavier’s head again, “I’m in.”

“What?” you sputter, staring at him with wide eyes. “You- you can’t just agree! I had a whole thing planned and we still need to go over agreements about how this is going to work.”

“I’m not just going to disappear once you have the baby,” Caleb sighs, staring at you, his gaze never wavering. “If we do this, we’re doing it together.”

“Oh,” you say, sitting back in your chair, “well if that’s what you’d like, but I don’t want you to feel obligated or anything.”

“Obligated?” Sylus interrupts, raising his brows, “Sweetie, if you decide to have one of our kids, we aren’t going to abandon you to handle everything on your own. It’s as much of our decision as it is yours.” He pauses for a moment, crossing his arms over his chest. “With that being said, I also accept your proposal.”

“You do?” you ask, your head tilting. “Wouldn't the two of you be overkill? I really think one of you agreeing is enough-”

“It wouldn’t be fair,” Xavier pitches in finally, having had enough of being squished on the couch as he stands up, sending a brief glare towards Caleb. “It wouldn’t be fair,” he repeats, shifting on his feet, “if only the two of them got to have you. Besides, you said it was up to us to decide.”

Was he jealous? Maybe you’d dug yourself in a little too deep. You’d had fleeting moments with each of them, shared lazy kisses every now and then, had a few of their heads buried between your thighs on some nights, but nothing serious… especially not this serious.

“So all three of you,” you look pointedly at Caleb, Sylus and Xavier, “want to help?”

“Yes,” is the unanimous reply.

“I can’t have sex with all three of you!” you protest, looking at each of them, “I mean, I could but that’s besides the point!”

“You’ll have to alternate between us,” Zayne supplies, adjusting his glasses, his lithe fingers pushing them up to sit more securely on the bridge of his nose. The action distracts you for a moment, your mind conjuring up the memory of those very fingers sinking inside of your pussy only a few weeks ago when he’d been pent up and you’d been eager to help.

“Right,” you reply as though the situation made complete sense and nothing about this entire thing was crazy. “Alternate- wait,” you pause, your eyes flicking over to meet Zayne’s. “Us?” you echo, “what do you mean ‘us’?”

“Us,” Zayne says simply.

“Us- us as in you included?” you ask, voice pitching upwards with how incredulity takes hold of you, part of you hoping that your faith in the english language was now failing you.

“Yes,” he replies, his head tilting to take in your expression. “I am the most… qualified for this position.”

“This isn’t a job interview!” you snap, glaring at him, before pointing at the others accusingly, “and you are all way too eager to agree!”

“We’re helping you out,” Caleb counters, turning his attention to Zayne, “and what do you mean by qualified? You just have to cum inside of her.”

You wince at his crude words.

“I often see children during my rounds in the wards,” Zayne says coolly, “I don’t see you handling any children while you fly your plane around.”

“Oh, fuck off,” Caleb mutters, sending Zayne a glare.

“Okay,” you pitch in, hoping to ease some of the tension. “Rafayel?” you say, eyes focusing on the purple-haired man who’s been watching the situation unfold with amusement, “I’m glad you haven’t said anything, because four is more than eno-”

“Who said I didn’t agree?” he asks, raising his brows, “I’d be the odd one out, wouldn’t I? As Xavier said, that’d hardly be fair.”

“So what you’re all telling me, is that you’re all ready for a baby?” you ask bluntly, tilting your head skeptically. “Because I feel like none of you have thought this through.”

“We’re just giving you the best chance of having a baby,” Xavier says, meeting your skepticism with his own bluntness.

“Fine,” you breathe out, your eyes flitting across each of the handsome men. You’d be lying if you weren’t somewhat excited about the idea. “You’re all accepted.”

“Great,” Sylus says, standing up.

Your eyes widen when he approaches you, his arm tugging you to your feet, before wrapping around your waist.

“What are you-”

Your voice is muffled when he slots his lips over yours. You make a noise of protest until he presses closer, your eyes fluttering shut at the soothing stroke of his thumb against your cheek. A soft whine escapes you, arms sliding up to wrap around his neck, your lips working against his eagerly.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Caleb snaps.

You squeak when you’re pulled away from Sylus, arms reaching out to grab for him, only for Caleb to swat your hands away, sending you an equally harsh glare.

“I thought we were getting started,” Sylus drawls, his eyes flashing with a hint of disdain. “I’m not one to sit around and watch.”

Caleb snaps out a retort and your shoulders sag as you watch the two men begin to argue.

“Are you sure you wanna have a baby with one of them?” Rafayel asks, his voice hushed as he sidles up to you. “They seem awfully… ill-tempered.”

You blink up at him, face falling. “Do you think that’ll affect the baby?”

Rafayel nods, putting on a grave disposition until you see Zayne roll his eyes.

“We’ll alternate,” Zayne says, rubbing his temples, “like I said. It’s the fairest way and none of your egos will get hurt in the process. We can draw numbers to figure out the order.”

You end up scrawling the numbers one to five on a piece of paper, ripping them up before scrunching them, so they can’t see what’s written on the paper.

“Take your pick,” you offer, opening your hands up for each one of them to choose a crumpled piece of paper.

You stare at each of them expectantly as they open up the pieces of paper, rocking up on your toes to peek over Xavier’s shoulder.

Two.

Well, you could handle that. You smile up at him and he smiles back, dipping his head quickly to kiss your cheek.

“You have got to be fucking kidding me,” Caleb groans staring down at his paper.

“Did you place last?” Rafayel asks smugly, waving his paper around as though he had won the lottery. “I’m first!”

“Asshole,” Caleb grouses, ripping up his paper agitatedly, “third.”

You turn your attention to Zayne and Sylus, raising your brows.

“Fourth,” Zayne says, tucking his paper away neatly into the pocket of his trousers.

You swallow nervously, glancing towards Sylus. He gives you a devilish grin in return, flipping his paper to show you the messily scribbled five.

“You’re not… mad about it?” you ask tentatively.

“Why should I be?” Sylus asks, running a hand through his snowy hair, the strands falling across his forehead prettily, “It just means that I get to spend the longest with you.”

Well, that sounds more like a threat than anything. You weren’t a stranger to Sylus’ ways, you’d spent a few nights in his bed, face shoved into the pillows while you’d sobbed and cried pathetically with every snap of his hips against your ass.

“Right,” you clear your throat, hoping your voice doesn’t betray your nervousness.

Your gaze drifts over each man. Smug Rafayel, mellow Xavier, disgruntled Caleb, stoic Zayne and devilish Sylus.

Yeah, you think, you were definitely in for it.

taglist >///<

@serenitymaria @kreishin @qyuin @wegottastayfocus @novthirty @syluslittlecrows @blorbohunter @luvleixo @crimsonmarabou @skylaryoung2002 @multisstuff @chirikoheina @supermissnkta @serenity-loves-red @shi-thats-kiera @froleineeeee @jaynawayna @schooki @minyoongi-pouts @mizienjoyer @isagistar @zaynesnowflake @athena-portgas @colonelcalebs-pipsqueak @cutelittlesugarfairy @pookiei-bookie @dooopiee @rafshottestgf @thetimetravelernightmare @slytherin-min99 @envy-of-greed @paninisstuff @h0ngh0ngh0ng @nezuswritingdesk @teeheeheartless

#sylus x reader #caleb x reader #xavier x reader #zayne x reader #rafayel x reader #love and deepspace #love and deepspace sylus #love and deepspace zayne #love and deepspace caleb #love and deepspace rafayel #love and deepspace xavier #sylus x you #caleb x you #zayne x you #rafayel x you #xavier x you #lads x reader

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cllightning81 · 2 days ago

Text

Firsts [OP81]

Summary: As Oliver's sister, you'd pushed your life aside to follow him around the world and be his manager in a way that you'd never experienced any of your firsts. Oscar wants to change that

Pairing/s: Oscar Piastri x Bearman!Reader

Word Count: 2.2k

Request HERE

Masterlist Oscar Piastri Masterlist Oliver Bearman Masterlist

Want to be included in my tag list? Click HERE

You’d followed Ollie around for most of his international single-seater career. Still, now that he was moving up into F1, it was a significant jump up for Ollie, who had a couple of races previously, and with you. It came with a lot more than what you were expecting.

Now, walking with Ollie up the red carpet for the F175 event, you weren’t sure what to expect, and Ollie was even more scared of what would happen. With it being his debut season and the debut of this type of event, everything was unknown.

Ollie politely responded to all the questions from the interviewers as you stood to the side, silently laughing at some of the questions. ‘Who do you think will swear the most?’ had to be your favourite question from the night.

Walking into the building with Ollie, you could see his shoulders sag slightly now that there weren’t any fans or cameras around. You smiled at him

“Hey, well done. One down, twenty-four more to go,” You joked, and he groaned, rubbing his face, and you laughed “Sorry, Olls. You know I can’t keep this nice facade up all night,” You chuckled, following him and his PR manager into the Haas changing room.

“Hey Y/N” Esteban smiled over

“Evening Esteban. Enjoying your night so far?” You asked, taking a sea,t to which he shook his head

“I’ll enjoy it more once I’ve got a drink in my system”, He joked, and you couldn’t help but laugh

“Ollie’s barely legal, and I think he’ll be having more than I will” You laughed as Ollie looked over his face, clearly confused. The young driver hadn’t been listening to what had been said.

An hour later, you were sitting in the crowd, smiling at Charles as he passed, clearly already fed up with this event. You couldn’t help but scroll through social media to see what the fans picked up on. Jack Whitehall’s British humour does not connect to some fans, and while you had to agree that making comments in front of the drivers wasn’t the best plan of action, it was something that people would think about.

The two drivers left the table a little earlier than their performance to get changed into their race suits for their performance. Almost biting the skin of your fingers in nerves for your younger brother so focused on the stage you didn’t notice someone sitting down next to you

“He’ll be okay. He drives racing cars for a living. I’m sure he will be okay on stage for around five minutes” You jumped at the voice, turning your head quickly to look at who was talking to you. Letting out a breath as you saw another driver “Sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. I was coming back from the bathroom, and you looked nervous. I thought I might be able to help” He looked calm despite almost being attacked for the fright he’d just given you.

“Next time, I suggest announcing your presence,” You suggested, to which he nodded

“I shall consider that” He smiled as you rested your hands on the table again.

“From my knowledge, women don’t like being scared” You couldn’t help but laugh

“I shall also consider that. I guess it’s the older brother in me. I just like scarring my sisters,” He replied, and you turned to face him slightly

“You’re the oldest?” You asked, and he nodded

“Yeah. Any siblings yourself?” He asked

“Yeah, I’m also the oldest. Then, there’s technically three teenagers” You nodded

“Bearman, your brother?” He asked, and you nodded slightly

“Yeah, what gave it away?” You asked, and he chuckled slightly

“You two look alike”, he replied, and you chuckled

“You won’t be saying that when you see Ollie and Thomas together”, you answered as the presenter announced Haas to enter the stage, which is when you started worrying again. Of course, you would. Your younger brother was about to get on stage in front of thousands in person and millions at home.

Your knee bounced under the table as your thoughts ran a hundred miles a minute. Thinking of anything and everything that could go wrong. Maybe it was an older sister thing, or perhaps it was just anxiety. It was one thing that you’d never know. Oscar, however, sat with you throughout their performance. A comforting feature compared to how you were feeling inside.

“I’ll see you around then” He smiled, gently squeezing your shoulder before returning to the Mclaren table.

A few weeks later, you were back in the paddock with Ollie as you were walking through the paddock. Oscar had stopped to talk to you every time you passed, and you weren’t exactly sure how to deal with the feelings. You’d followed Ollie around for so long, ensuring that there was always an adult with him and that you paused your relationships.

You couldn’t remember the last time someone showed interest in you as a person and not in you as Oliver Bearman’s older sister. Never mind, it is a man who wanted to get closer to you even if, at the moment, his intentions haven’t been clear to you yet.

“How’s Ollie doing?” Oscar asked, but you could only shrug a little. His crash wasn’t easy for you to watch or for him.

“He’s beating himself up. He thinks he should have done better. The team aren’t the happiest, but no one blames him. They see it as one of those things that just happen,” You replied. Oscar squeezed your shoulder a little

“I get that being the older sibling makes you want to take the pain away, but remember that you can't always. Unfortunately, sometimes we just have to let them learn” He smiled sadly, and you nodded

“Yeah, I know”, you sighed, looking towards the Haas hospitality.

“You know where to find me if you need advice.” He smiled while walking away.

There was almost a new feeling in your chest. One you haven't felt before, or if you had, it had been so long ago that you'd forgotten.

Oscar seemed nice, and you wanted to get closer to him. Maybe it was a crush forming on the Aussie driver.

Over the past couple of months, you and Oscar had started to get closer to each other, which you first thought was just as friends.

However, Oscar wasn't as great at hiding his romantic feelings as his general feelings.

You wouldn't lie to anyone who asked. You liked him back. The issue though? You'd never had a romantic relationship with anyone.

Anyone who had ever shown interest soon lost it when they realised that most of the year, you were halfway around the world. Meaning that you'd never experienced any of your firsts. Even at the ripe age of 23.

Oscar had noticed you pulling away. There were no Facetime calls when you were both at home. You weren't texting him any celebrity drama at any given moment. And the one that hurt him the most? No movie nights after a race.

He'd tried everything to keep the relationship going, even if it was just as friends, but you kept pulling away.

The poor driver even went as far as asking your brother if you weren't well. To which Oliver told him he wanted this to go further more than you wanted it yourself.

You kept pulling back; however, Oscar didn’t give up, going as far as to stop you in a quiet corner of the paddock on your way out after qualifying

“You keep pulling away”, he stated, to which you just looked at him, waiting for him to continue his point “I’m not entirely sure why you’re doing it, but if it’s something I’ve done, I would like to know.” He finished, and you looked down at the ground.

There was a lump forming in the back of your throat. You wanted to explain, you did, but you weren’t sure you could explain without it coming off that you were just being a complete bitch because really. He did nothing wrong.

“Can we do it somewhere else?” You asked quietly, to which Oscar nodded

“My driver's room is empty. Or I can come to your hotel room?” He suggested

“I’d rather not do it in the paddock, so my hotel room?” You asked, to which he nodded

“Just text me your room number, and I’ll come over when I’m done with media”, he smiled, gently squeezing your hand before allowing you to walk away

Changing into something more comfortable, the nerves ran through your veins. What would Oscar think? Would he now pull away? Would he think you were a bitch? You thought you were being a bitch

A knock on the door paused your thoughts; as you got up walking over, your heart rate increased. You opened the door with a foot just behind it so that if someone wanted to force their way in, they couldn’t.

However, on the other side of the door was just Oscar. You opened the door slightly, allowing him to enter the room.

“Nice room” He smiled, and you looked around with a little shrug

“It does for the weekend”, You replied as you sat down on the bed

“I will leave as soon as you want me to; however, I’d like you to hear me out. Your brothers say you’re a good listener” He sat down on the chair, and you nodded

“I can be when I want to be”, you replied, and he smiled slightly

“After speaking to Ollie, I understood you a little more, even from a distance. Pushing your own life aside so he can follow his dreams. No matter how much it affected you. I now understand that’s why you’ve been pushing me away because, in your mind, it’s all about Ollie’s career and not your own” You shrugged a little

“I’m his manager at this point. It’s my career. It keeps me going,” You replied

“But he also told me that you also pushed anyone who wanted to have a relationship with you, which is why you pushed me away” You looked over at Oscar

“That little snitch” You muttered. Oscar let out a breathy laugh “He might not be exactly wrong; however, I also didn’t like those guys who tried to date me. They either didn’t understand that I had to travel with Oscar, or they were just dicks” You replied with a shrug

“Well, I’d like to think I’m neither of those. I like you, Y/N, and I know it’s only been a couple of months; however, I’m hoping you feel the same and may give me a chance?” He asked

You were nervous, of course, you were, but Oscar also seemed like a good guy who, much like you, enjoyed your privacy and cared about his family

“I’ll give you a trial period”, You joked, a small smile appearing on your face

“I’ll take it. I’ll take anything!” He exclaimed, and you laughed a little, head dropping down as a blush formed on your cheeks

“I was only joking about the trial period; however, I might have had no firsts, but I do have standards of not being asked out in the cheap hotel rooms Haas pay for” You smiled, and he nodded

“An expensive Mclaren sponsor hotel room?” Oscar joked, to which you thought about it for a moment before shrugging your shoulders with a slight tilt of your head

“Do they have good room service?” You asked, to which it was now his turn to shrug

“I’ve never ordered it. My trainer makes up my meals for the weekend to make sure I don’t have too many cheat meals” You rolled your eyes at his confession

“Obiously Mr Athelete doesn’t make his own meals or even order room service” You joked and he laughed

“Why don’t you come over and try the room service?” He asked and you tilted your head a little. Sit in your room alone or join the innocent looking polite cat sitting opposite you in his hotel room. The options seemed so far apart but at the same time so close.

You liked Oscar. You’d been talking to him through text and on Facetime for a couple months you trusted him. Why wouldn’t you?

“Okay let’s go test your fancy room service” You smiled

A few months later Ollie was jumping around you after your confession that you and Oscar were now together.

You didn’t want to tell him before the race however it just slipped out in conversation that you had a date with your boyfriend and then after that you couldn’t stay quiet any longer.

It was safe to say that Ollie liked having Oscar as a brother in law so when you and Oscar were walking through the paddock holding hands your younger brother couldn’t keep his excitement to himself sharing it with the rest of the rookies.

Antonelli who was a very close friend of the family was also very excited to find out the news. Ollie and Kimi bothering you at any given moment was something that you’d grown used to at this point.

Oscar however didn’t exactly know what to do when the two rookies joined you both in your hotel room when you were sat cuddling. You however just let them bounce about the place like little puppies until they became so tired that they basically fell asleep on the floor

“Oh wow” Oscar muttered and you chuckled

“You grow used to it” You smiled and he nodded slightly

Tag List

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dollcher · 2 days ago

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mdni ୨୧.

daydreaming about toji coming back to your shared home after completing an assignment, groaning at how taxing it had been. he walked in, expecting to either find you sprawled out on the couch or the bed, watching one of your favourite shows. the thought made his heart flutter, any semblance of fatigue instantly dissipating.

while he hadn't been wrong, it was what you were wearing that had his dick instantly straining against his pants.

it wasn't even anything sexy, really. if anything, it was cute and innocent. you were wearing one of his black t-shirts, the piece of clothing engulfing the whole of your pretty frame. you peeked your head from the couch, greeting him with that sickeningly sweet smile of yours.

"hi baby," you mused. "i missed you."

that was all it took for him to carry you to your bedroom and have him ramming his thick cock into your weeping cunt. you atop him, his feet digging into the bed, the squelching and slapping sounds of his dick hitting your pussy filling the room.

you were still wearing his top, you clenching it in between your teeth, exposing your breasts and hardened nipples. seeing the way they bounced so sexily every time he thrust up into you, the dribbles of drool that dripped down from biting onto his shirt – fuck... he found it so unbelievably arousing.

"shit babydoll," he growled, gripping onto your sides tightly, leaving red marks. a hard slap to your ass eliciting a cute whimper out of you had him throwing his head back in complete ecstasy. "who knew... ngh! that you in my shirt would get me so horny, huh?", he purred.

all you could do was whine in response, walls clenching so deliciously around his cock. the way your pussy tightened around him; the way your eyes looked so fucked out from him slamming into your wet, syrupy core; the way your hands dug into his chest to keep yourself steady – everything about you in this state had him drunk on you.

seeing your juices soak his cock and how your whimpers and moans were growing louder and whinier was all he needed to be pushed to the edge. spilling his seed into you, coating your walls a pearly white, your legs shaking as you rode out your own orgasm. deep growls erupted from his chest, as if awakening something primal in him.

you flopped your body on top of him, his arms coming to wrap around you tenderly – such a stark contrast as to how rough he had been a mere few seconds ago. he patted down your hair as he whispered in your ear, "fuck i gotta let you wear my shirts more often, doll."

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cressidagrey · 16 hours ago

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White Horse - Chapter 3: May 2023

Pairing: Max Verstappen x Isabelle Leclerc (Original Character)

Summary:

Max Verstappen is a World Champion. Isabelle Leclerc is invisible.

She watched her family give up everything for Charles’ career—Arthur’s karting, their father’s savings, even her childhood horse. She understood. She never asked for more.

But Max does. He notices the things no one else does, listens when no one else will, and puts her first in ways she never imagined. With him, she isn’t an afterthought—she’s a choice. And for the first time, she realizes she doesn’t have to be invisible.

Warnings and Notes:

Welcome to 8k of my waffling. Warnings: we have now moved on from Charles bashing to bashing his whole family, Discussion of toxic relationships in the past, also discussion of very toxic thoughts about intimacy, and discussion of past dubious consent, Max being a simp for his girl, ...I think that's it? If I missed something, let me know.

As always big thanks to @llirawolf , who listens to me ramble

Text Conversation: Isabelle Leclerc & Max Verstappen

Isabelle: Hey, just a heads-up—it’s Mother’s Day this weekend.

Max: …Okay?

Isabelle: I always remind my brothers, or they forget. Thought I’d do the same for you.

Max: Thanks, I guess? But I ordered flowers and her favorite sweets three weeks ago.

Isabelle: …You what?

Max: Yeah. And a handwritten card.

Isabelle: THREE WEEKS AGO?

Max: Yes?

Isabelle: Do you understand how unfair this is??

Max: What do you mean?

Isabelle: You’re making every other man in my life look terrible.

Max: Maybe they should simply try harder.

Isabelle: You don’t get it. I usually have to remind them, nag them, and buy the gifts myself so they don’t show up empty-handed.

Max: Again. Not my problem.

Isabelle: You’re actually infuriating.

Max: Because I remembered a holiday in advance?

Isabelle: Because you remembered without me having to tell you!

Max: This is a weird thing to be mad about.

Isabelle: I’m not mad, I’m just—adjusting.

Max: To what?

Isabelle: To a boyfriend who actually does things without needing to be reminded?

Max: Well, get used to it.

Isabelle: I might cry.

Max: Please don’t, you’ll make me feel bad.

Isabelle: You should! For setting the bar so high I can never accept bare minimum effort again!

Max: Good. You deserve better.

***

Leclerc Sibling Group Chat

(Members: Arthur, Isabelle, Charles and Lorenzo)

Isabelle: Reminder—it’s Mother’s Day. Call Maman.

Charles: …Right.

Arthur: Oh. Yeah.

Lorenzo: Was just about to text about that.

Arthur: Did we get her a gift?

Isabelle: Her favorite flowers and the perfume she’s been wanting.

Charles: …We did?

Isabelle: Yes.

Arthur: Perfume? Again?

Lorenzo: Arthur.

Arthur: I’m just saying, it’s kind of boring.

Charles: Yeah, maybe we should’ve gotten something else?

Lorenzo: Like what?

Arthur: I don’t know. A handbag? A candle? Something a bit more exciting?

***

Instagram Post – @/isabelleleclerc

Comments:

@/charles_leclerc: Happy Mother’s Day to Maman! 💖

@/arthur_leclerc: Love you Maman! You’re the best 💐✨

@/lorenzo_leclerc: Happy Mother’s Day!

@/f1gossipqueen: Such a beautiful tribute, Isabelle! Happy Mother’s Day to Pascale 💐💖"

@/tifosi_in_monaco: Happy Mother’s Day! You’ve clearly been raised with so much love ❤️

@/trackside_tales: That’s the sweetest! Happy Mother’s Day to your beautiful mom ❤️

@/f1_ultimatefan: Your mom must be so proud of you! Wishing her the best Mother’s Day 💖

***

Text Messages: Max Verstappen & Sophie Kumpen

Max: Hey Mom, just wanted to make sure the flowers arrived okay and that you liked them.

Sophie: Max, they are beautiful! 💐 Thank you so much for thinking of me. The flowers are stunning, and the sweets were a lovely touch, especially my favorites! The card... well, it made me tear up a bit. ❤️ You really didn’t have to.

Max: Of course I did. It’s Mother’s Day. 😊

Sophie: And I heard you bought something for Victoria too? She texted me already—said you got the exact bag she’d been eyeing for months? How did you even know that?

Max: She mentioned it once during Christmas when I was half asleep on the couch. Guess I wasn’t that asleep.

Max: She’s always there for me, so I thought I’d do something nice for her too.

Sophie: You’re becoming dangerously thoughtful. Should I be worried?

Max: I’m evolving.

Sophie: Speaking of evolving… How are things with your girlfriend?

Max: She’s…

Max: Honestly? She’s kind, and steady, and smart in this quiet way that gets me every time. She makes everything feel lighter. Even the hard parts.

Sophie: Max.

Max: What.

Sophie: That was almost romantic. Who are you and what have you done with my son?

Max: He’s still here. He’s just tired of being an emotionally constipated Dutchman.

Sophie: Well, I’m proud of you. I’m looking forward to meeting her one day. You deserve someone who makes you happy, Max. Just make sure you don’t wait too long to introduce her to me.

Max: Don’t worry, I’ll bring her home when the time’s right. But seriously, I’m just really happy with her.

Sophie: I can tell. Take care of her, Max. You’re both lucky to have each other.

Max: I will, Mom. Thanks. Love you.

Sophie: Love you too, Maxie.

***

Text Messages: Isabelle Leclerc & Emilie Abadie

Isabelle: He just brought me coffee. Exactly how I like it. Without me even asking.

Emilie: …Okay?

Isabelle: He just knew.

Emilie: Isabelle, you’ve been together for over a month. Of course he knows how you take your coffee.

Isabelle: But I didn’t say anything. He just handed it to me and kissed my forehead like it was normal.

Emilie: Isabelle.

Isabelle: And now he’s sitting across from me, just existing all content and relaxed, and it’s weird.

Emilie: Oh my god.

Isabelle: Why is he so nice to me? Why does he just do things for me?

Emilie: BECAUSE HE LOVES YOU.

Isabelle: …but??

Emilie: No. No buts. You deserve this. This is what a relationship is supposed to feel like.

Isabelle: I know that logically. It’s just… I’ve never had this before.

Emilie: You mean, you’ve never been with someone who actually pays attention to you and treats you like you matter without you having to remind them?

Isabelle: …Yes.

Emilie: Yeah. I figured.

Isabelle: It just feels like I should be doing more.

Emilie: You don’t have to earn love, Isabelle. It’s not conditional. You don’t have to do something for him to treat you well.

Isabelle: But I want to do something for him too.

Emilie: That’s different. Wanting to give back because you love him, not because you feel like you owe him, is different.

Isabelle: …How do I stop feeling like I owe him?

Emilie: Time. And maybe letting yourself actually believe that you’re worth all of this without needing to repay it.

Isabelle: …I’m trying.

Emilie: I know. And so does he.

Isabelle: He just put my feet in his lap and started rubbing them like it’s nothing.

Emilie: And let me guess, your brain short-circuited again?

Isabelle: Yes.

Emilie: Good. Now shut up and let the man spoil you.

***

Max leaned against the doorway, arms crossed, watching as Isabelle sat on the floor of his apartment, completely lost in play with the cats. She didn’t even notice him.

Sassy was curled up in her lap, purring so loudly Max could hear it from across the room, while Jimmy was perched on the back of the couch, watching with sharp eyes as Isabelle dangled a feather toy just out of reach. She giggled when Jimmy finally pounced, batting at the toy with his paws, determined to “win.”

Max couldn’t help but smile.

There was something about watching her like this—soft, unguarded, completely comfortable—that made his chest ache in the best way. Isabelle, for all her quiet confidence and composed demeanor, had a way of melting around the cats. She whispered to them, scratched behind their ears just the way they liked, and let them nuzzle into her like they’d been hers all along.

Sassy stretched out in her lap, belly up, a clear sign of trust. Isabelle laughed, running her fingers through his fur. “You’re so spoiled,” she murmured.

“Wonder where they get that from,” Max teased.

Isabelle glanced up, startled, as if she’d forgotten he was even there. Her face warmed slightly, but she didn’t move, just kept stroking Sassy’s fur. “Not my fault they like me better,” she said, grinning.

Max huffed a laugh, pushing off the doorway and walking toward her. He crouched down beside her, reaching out to scratch behind Jimmy’s ears. “I think they just know you’re gonna spoil them rotten”

Isabelle playfully nudged him with her shoulder. “You say that like you’re not just as bad.”

Max didn’t argue—because she wasn’t wrong. He spoiled the cats, and now, without even realizing it, he was doing the same with her. Small things: the flowers he sent her, the extra blanket he made sure was always on his couch because he knew she liked to curl up with one, the way he always stocked her favorite tea.

Jimmy finally lost interest in the feather toy and instead padded over to Isabelle, rubbing his face against her arm. She smiled, scratching under his chin as he flopped dramatically onto her lap.

Max just sat there, watching.

His life had always been fast—races, flights, training, the never-ending cycle of the season. But this? Watching Isabelle on the floor of his apartment, surrounded by his cats, like she belonged there?

This was the kind of moment he wanted to hold on to.

***

Leclerc Sibling Group Chat

(Members: Arthur, Isabelle, Charles and Lorenzo)

Charles: Maman’s birthday is next week. What’s the plan?

Arthur: Same as last year?

Lorenzo: Dinner at her place?

Charles: Sounds good.

Arthur: What about a gift?

Lorenzo: Something nice.

Isabelle: I’ll figure it out.

Charles: Perfect.

***

Isabelle: Okay, everything is sorted. Dinner is handled, and I ordered her favorite cake. I also picked out a necklace for the gift.

Charles: Oh, great.

Arthur: Nice.

Charles: This was way easier than I expected.

Arthur: Yeah, that came together fast.

Lorenzo: Good teamwork.

***

Max hadn’t meant to look at her phone. It was just there, sitting on the coffee table, screen lighting up as another message from Lorenzo came in.

“Good teamwork,” it read.

Max frowned. Teamwork, his ass.

Isabelle, curled up at the other end of the couch, didn’t even react. She had a book in her lap, one of the cats purring against her side, completely unbothered.

“You planned the whole thing yourself,” Max said, still staring at her phone.

Isabelle sighed. “Max—”

“No, seriously,” he cut in, looking at her now. “You did all the work, and they don’t even realize it. They just said ‘Good teamwork’ like they did anything.”

She shrugged, turning a page. “That’s how it always is.”

Max narrowed his eyes. “And you’re just okay with that?”

“It’s easier if I do it.”

“That’s not the point.” He sat up, shifting so he was facing her properly. “They should see you, Isabelle. They should appreciate you.”

She didn’t answer. Her fingers absentmindedly scratched behind the cat’s ear.

Max exhaled sharply. “You know that’s not normal, right? They just expect you to handle everything, and you let them.”

She finally glanced up from her book. “It’s not a big deal.”

“It is a big deal,” Max argued. “You deserve better than being the invisible one in your own family.”

She blinked at him, lips pressing together.

Max softened, reaching over to take the book from her hands and set it aside. Then he tugged her closer until she was against his chest, arms wrapped securely around her.

“I’m going to steal you away,” he murmured into her hair, “and never give you back.”

She huffed a quiet laugh, shaking her head. “That’s dramatic.”

She still curled into him, holding on just as tightly.

Max pressed a kiss to the top of her head, resting his chin there for a moment. “I mean it,” he said, voice quieter now. “You don’t have to do everything for them.”

Isabelle sighed, her fingers curling slightly against his shirt. “If I don’t, no one will.”

“That’s not your problem.”

“It is my problem.” She pulled back slightly to look at him. “Because if I don’t, things don’t get done. And then—then it’s just easier if I handle it.”

Max studied her, eyes searching hers. It wasn’t just about their mother’s birthday, and they both knew it.

“How long have you been doing this?” he asked softly.

She hesitated. “Since I was a kid,” she admitted eventually. “Lorenzo was always busy, Arthur was younger, Charles had racing… Someone had to take care of things.”

Max exhaled through his nose, jaw tightening. “And no one ever thought to take care of you?”

Her expression flickered, something like surprise flashing across her face. She didn’t answer, but that was answer enough.

Max swore under his breath and pulled her back against him, wrapping his arms around her again. “That’s not how it’s supposed to be, schat.”

She didn’t say anything, just buried her face in his shoulder.

***

Text Conversation: Isabelle Leclerc & Emilie Abadie

Isabelle: So. That was… something.

Emilie: Oh no. What happened?

Isabelle: Max found out how my brothers treat me.

Emilie: Ohhhhhh shit.

Isabelle: Yeah.

Emilie: What did he do??

Isabelle: He got angry. Like, not just annoyed. Not his usual “ugh, Ferrari” face. Like actually angry.

Emilie: …Is it bad that I love that for you?

Isabelle: He kept pacing around, ranting about how they take me for granted, how they never prioritize me.

Isabelle: He was like, “You deserve better than being the invisible one in your own family.”

Emilie: Honestly? Valid.

Isabelle: And then he just—sighed and pulled me into a hug. And said, “That’s not how it’s supposed to be, schat.”

Emilie: Isabelle, I am going to CRY.

Emilie: You realize he’s ready to go to war for you, right?

Isabelle: For the first time in my life, I feel like someone’s actually on my side.

***

Text Conversation: Max Verstappen & Gianpiero Lambiase

Max: Do you ever just want to punch someone?

GP: I work with you. Weekly.

Max: I’m being serious.

GP: …Okay, who do I need to be concerned about?

Max: Isabelle’s brothers.

GP: Charles, Arthur and Lorenzo??

Max: Yes.

GP: What did they do?

Max: More like what they don’t do. They don’t appreciate anything she does for them, and barely acknowledge her unless they need something.

GP: That can’t be right. They seem close?

Max: No. They’re close with each other. Isabelle just gets ignored.

GP: …How bad are we talking?

Max: Bad. Their group chat is a constant barrage of stuff Isabelle does for them without so much as a thanks. Every year, she reminds them about their mother’s birthday, Mother’s Day, everything. Buys the gifts for them. They wouldn’t remember otherwise.

GP: That’s… actually insane.

Max: I know.

GP: Why does she still do all this for them?

Max: Because she loves them. And they don’t even see how much they take her for granted.

GP: …Okay, I get why you want to punch someone.

Max: Thank you.

GP: So what’s the plan? Because I assume you have one.

Max: I take care of her. Since they won’t.

GP: …Yeah, I think that’s a good plan.

Max: I know it is.

***

Text Conversation: Max Verstappen & Victoria Verstappen

Max: Be honest. Was I ever a bad brother to you?

Victoria: …What? Where is this coming from?

Max: Just answer the question.

Victoria: No, Max. You were annoying, but you were never bad. Why?

Max: Because I just watched Isabelle’s brothers completely forget she existed. And I needed to know if I ever did that to you.

Victoria: …What did they do?

Max: Only notice her when they need something. She reminds them of every holiday, every important date, and then buys their gifts for them so they don’t look bad.

Victoria: You’re joking.

Max: I wish.

Victoria: That’s—what the hell?

Max: Yeah.

Victoria: Oh my god.

Max: So, again. Was I ever like that with you?

Victoria: No, Max. You and I fought, but you never made me feel like I wasn’t part of the family.

Max: Okay. Good.

Victoria: But seriously—how does she put up with that?

Max: Because she loves them. And she keeps hoping they’ll notice.

Victoria: …That’s heartbreaking.

Max: I know.

Victoria: What are you going to do?

Max: The same thing I’ve been doing since we got together. Make sure she never feels like that again.

Victoria: …You really love her, don’t you?

Max: Of course I do.

Victoria: No, I mean—not just in the way you say it. But in the way you see her when no one else does.

Max: She deserves to be seen.

Victoria: Yeah. She does.

Victoria: So, what’s the plan?

Max: Plan?

Victoria: You’re Max Verstappen. You don’t just sit back and let things happen. You’re already scheming. Spill.

Max: It’s not scheming. It’s just… making sure she gets everything they don’t give her.

Victoria: Which means?

Max: I remember her birthday. I get her gifts she actually likes. I make sure she knows she’s appreciated.

Victoria: That’s the bare minimum, Max.

Max: Yeah, well, they don’t even manage that.

Victoria: True.

Max: I just want her to know she’s not invisible. Not to me.

Victoria: She does. I promise you, she does.

Max: I hope so.

***

Isabelle Leclerc had never been so deeply, shamefully down bad.

She knew it the second she opened Instagram and was met with a carousel of Max’s sweaty, post-race pictures. His fireproofs clinging to his torso, curls damp against his forehead, jaw set in that sharp, focused way that made him look unfairly good. She scrolled further—pictures of him on the podium, champagne dripping down his neck, his Red Bull suit unzipped just enough to make her brain short-circuit.

She dropped her phone onto her chest, staring at the ceiling.

"I’m doomed," she muttered.

Sassy, Max’s cat, meowed from her place curled up on Isabelle’s stomach, completely unimpressed with her crisis. Jimmy was sprawled next to her, purring away, blissfully unaware that his owner’s girlfriend was currently struggling with an epiphany she hadn’t been ready for.

Because it wasn’t just that she found Max attractive. Of course she did—she had eyes. But this was the first time she’d ever felt like this. Like she actually wanted. Like she craved more than just stolen kisses and his hands warm on her waist.

And the worst part? Max wasn’t even here to do anything about it.

She groaned, throwing an arm over her face. "This is your fault," she told the cats. "If he hadn’t given me a key to come play with you, I wouldn’t be stuck here thinking about him."

Sassy let out another meow, clearly judging her.

***

Text Messages: Isabelle Leclerc & Emilie Abadie

Isabelle: Where do I buy the best lingerie?

Emilie: …Excuse me???

Emilie: Are you finally planning to jump your ridiculously in love, multi-millionaire, world champion boyfriend??

Isabelle: …

Emilie: Isabelle.

Isabelle: I tried, okay?!

Emilie: What do you mean you tried??

Isabelle: I mean I tried but he wanted to take things slow!

Emilie: …You’re telling me that Max Verstappen—the man who drives at 300 km/h for fun—wanted to take things slow?!

Isabelle: YES.

Emilie: Are you sure he’s Dutch and not secretly Victorian??

Isabelle: Emilie.

Emilie: No, because I’m actually stunned. You’re telling me you’ve been together for two months, he’s madly in love with you, bought real estate just to see you more, and still hasn’t—

Isabelle: No.

Emilie: Isabelle.

Isabelle: He said he didn’t want me to think this was just about that. That he wanted to show me he was serious.

Emilie: That’s actually disgustingly romantic.

Isabelle: I know. But also, Emilie, I am going to combust.

Emilie: Oh, I am absolutely taking you shopping.

Emilie: We’re getting you the best lingerie. The kind that makes a man forget the concept of “taking things slow.”

Isabelle: I don’t want to pressure him.

Emilie: Isabelle, babe, I love you, but you could show up in a paper bag and he’d still be obsessed with you. This is just insurance.

Isabelle: Insurance??

Emilie: Yes. For when you inevitably break him.

Isabelle: …

Isabelle: That’s not how insurance works.

Emilie: It is in this scenario. Now, when are you free? We’re going shopping.

Isabelle: You’re way too excited about this.

Emilie: Because I am emotionally invested!! Do you have any idea how rare it is for a man to be this in love and still have the self-control of a monk??

Isabelle: I don’t know whether to be flattered or frustrated.

Emilie: You can be both! But mostly, you can be prepared. Because trust me, the moment he decides he’s ready, you need to be ready.

Isabelle: … I did buy silk sheets.

Emilie: YES, that’s my girl!! Now tell me, what’s Max’s favorite color on you?

Isabelle: Emerald green.

Emilie: Oh, we are going all out.

***

Instagram Story – @/isabelleleclerc

***

Isabelle hadn’t been this nervous in a long time.

Not during presentations, not in meetings, not even the time she accidentally spilled coffee on a potential client’s Hermès bag (it had been black, mercifully, and Max had made her laugh about it later).

But this? Standing in Max Verstappen’s bedroom, bathed in the soft golden glow of his bedside lamp, wearing lingerie she had stared at for weeks before buying? This made her heart hammer so loud she swore he could hear it.

She had planned this—carefully. She knew he was expecting her. She’d texted earlier, promised takeout and a quiet night. That part wasn’t a lie. But the bag of food now sat forgotten on the kitchen counter, and she stood in front of him wearing forest green lace and every ounce of courage she’d been hoarding since their first kiss.

Max didn’t speak.

He didn’t move.

Just stared at her, wide-eyed, lips parted slightly, like he’d forgotten how to function. And for a single, terrifying moment, she thought she’d misjudged everything.

“Say something,” she whispered, her voice far steadier than she felt, her fingers fiddling with the strap of the lingerie. “I’m starting to think this was a bad idea.”

But then—he moved.

In an instant, he crossed the room, hands warm as they settled on her waist, pulling her gently closer. His eyes met hers, and they were nothing short of reverent.

“Not a bad idea,” he said, low and rough. “A very, very good idea.”

Her breath left her in a shaky laugh, part relief, part giddy disbelief. Her hands found the front of his shirt, fingers curling into the fabric like she needed something to anchor her.

“You like it?” she asked, her voice small now, almost teasing.

Max swallowed visibly, eyes roaming over her again like he still couldn’t quite believe what he was seeing. “Isabelle, I think my brain just stopped working.”

That earned a crooked smile from her, some of the nervousness melting into something bolder, flirtier. “That good, huh?”

Instead of answering, Max let his hands drift lower, tracing the curve of her hips, fingers skimming the sheer lace with maddening care. He looked like he was touching something precious. Something rare.

“You did this for me?” he asked, quieter this time. Like it surprised him.

She nodded, heart thudding. “Wanted to surprise you.”

He exhaled slowly, leaned in. Pressed a kiss to her forehead. Her temple. The edge of her mouth.

“You have no idea what you do to me.”

The words made something flutter and twist deep in her chest. She arched into him without meaning to, breath catching as his grip on her waist tightened just slightly.

“Then show me,” she whispered.

And the look he gave her after that? Wicked. Worshipful. Dangerous in the best possible way.

Max Verstappen had never turned down a challenge in his life. And from the way he kissed her next, Isabelle knew he wasn’t about to start now.

His mouth met hers with quiet intensity—no rush, no urgency, just the kind of kiss that made Isabelle feel like she was being memorised, piece by piece.

Max kissed her like the world had narrowed to her skin and the space between them.

And God, the way he touched her.

His hands were still firm on her waist, thumbs brushing gently along the edge of lace like he didn’t dare go further without permission, like she was something sacred—not because she was wearing lingerie, but because she was Isabelle.

He kissed the corner of her mouth, then lower, over her jaw, down the curve of her neck.

Isabelle let her eyes fall shut, a soft breath escaping her as her hands slid from his shirt to his shoulders, pulling him just a little closer.

“Still thinking this was a bad idea?” he murmured against her skin.

She let out a breathy laugh, fingers threading into the back of his hair. “No. Definitely not.”

Max pulled back slightly, just enough to look at her, his expression shifting from teasing to something quieter—like he was checking in, even without asking.

And it struck her again—how different this was from every other time she’d tried to be brave for someone. This wasn’t performance. This wasn’t her trying to prove she was enough.

With Max, she was.

“You okay?” he asked, quietly, sincerely.

She nodded, and that time, it felt real. “Yeah.”

“Good.” His hands moved to cradle her face, thumbs brushing her cheeks, his eyes never leaving hers. “Because I want to take my time with you.”

That sentence alone nearly undid her.

She didn’t respond with words—just kissed him again, deeper this time, letting herself lean into it, letting herself feel it.

It was slow. Gentle. Everything she’d dreamed of, and somehow… so much more.

Max kissed her like he had all the time in the world, like the moment mattered more than the destination. His hands slid across her skin like a question, never demanding, only asking. Always waiting. Always listening.

And Isabelle—Isabelle gave herself over to it. To him.

For a while.

Because this was different. Because Max made her feel safe. Because she wanted this.

But even as her body responded—arching into his touch, breath catching when his mouth dragged down her collarbone—something inside her began to unravel.

She didn’t notice it at first. Not really.

It started as a quiet overwhelm. The weight of his hands on her waist. The way he whispered her name like it meant something. The softness in his eyes, the care in every kiss.

He touched her like she was precious. Like she was the most important thing in the world.

And it broke her.

Because no one ever had. Not like this. Not without expectation. Not without making her feel like she had to be performative, or perfect, or grateful.

She gasped—not from pleasure, not from panic, but from the sudden ache of being held so gently.

And then the tears came.

At first, she didn’t realise she was crying. Just a strange heat behind her eyes, a tightness in her throat. She blinked hard and tried to breathe through it, tried to hold onto the moment.

But Max noticed. Of course he noticed.

His hands, which had been skimming her skin, froze. His brow creased, worry flickering across his face. “Schatje,” he murmured, voice impossibly soft. “What’s wrong?”

She shook her head quickly, pressing her lips together, embarrassed. “Nothing.”

His thumb traced the curve of her cheek, catching the tear that slipped free anyway. “That doesn’t look like nothing.”

She swallowed hard. “I just…” A shaky breath. “I didn’t know it could feel like this.”

Max went impossibly still. His blue eyes searched hers, something flickering behind them—understanding, frustration, something else entirely. He exhaled slowly, then pressed a kiss to her forehead. “You deserve this,” he whispered. “All of it.”

Isabelle broke.

She curled into him, burying her face in his neck as his arms tightened around her, grounding her, holding her together.

No one had ever held her like this before. No one had ever made her feel like she wasn’t just something to take from.

But Max wasn’t like anyone else.

Max didn’t rush her. He didn’t push or pry. He just held her, one hand smoothing over her back, the other tangling gently in her hair as she clung to him.

Isabelle took slow, shaky breaths, letting herself settle, letting herself believe—that this wasn’t just desire, that Max didn’t just want her for a fleeting moment, that he was here because of her, all of her.

When she finally pulled back, her eyes were still damp, but the knot in her chest had loosened. She met his gaze hesitantly. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

Max frowned immediately. “Why?”

She let out a breathy, almost self-conscious laugh. “Because that’s not exactly what you expect when you bring your girlfriend to bed.”

His expression softened. “Isabelle,” he said, tilting her chin up so she had to look at him. “I don’t care how long this takes. I don’t care if we stop now or in ten minutes or in ten weeks.” His thumb brushed over her cheekbone. “I just want you.”

Something deep inside her cracked open.

Isabelle had spent so long being overlooked, taken for granted, expected to give without ever receiving. But Max didn’t expect anything from her. He just wanted her—whether she gave him pieces or the whole damn thing.

She swallowed hard. “I want this,” she said, and she meant it. She really meant it.

Max searched her face, his fingers tightening slightly on her skin. Then, slowly, he lowered his mouth to hers.

This kiss was different. It wasn’t urgent, wasn’t hurried. It was deep and consuming, felt like something more.

Isabelle melted into it, into him, into the warmth of his body and the way he touched her—carefully, reverently, like she was something to cherish.

And for the first time in her life, she let herself believe she was.

***

Text Conversation: Isabelle Leclerc & Emilie Abadie

Emilie: So.

Emilie: I let you run off with a bag full of very expensive and very effective lingerie, and I have received zero updates.

Emilie: Isabelle.

Emilie: I am not a patient woman.

Isabelle: I genuinely don’t know how to process last night.

Emilie: …Good or bad?

Isabelle: I think I need therapy.

Emilie: Therapy???

Isabelle: Emilie, I thought sex was supposed to be uncomfortable. I thought it was normal. To just… grit my teeth and wait for it to be over. To pretend it was fine. To pretend I liked it.

Emilie: Isabelle.

Isabelle: I’m serious. I thought it was normal for it to be awkward and underwhelming, and that I just had to deal with it.

Emilie: …I suddenly have a burning need to hunt down every single one of your exes.

Isabelle: They didn’t care if I enjoyed it.

Emilie: …What do you mean?

Isabelle: I mean, it was always just about them. Their pleasure. Their satisfaction.

Isabelle: I was just a body.

Emilie: Oh my god.

Isabelle: It wasn’t just bad—it was awful. Sometimes painful. Almost always embarrassing.

Emilie: Belle.

Isabelle: I thought that was normal.

Emilie: You’re joking.

Isabelle: I used to fake it just to get it over with.

Emilie: What the actual fuck?!

Isabelle: Em…

Emilie: No, because I was expecting you to say like, oh, it was awkward. Or boring. But this?!

Isabelle: I just thought that’s how it was.

Emilie: IT’S NOT.

Isabelle: I know that now.

Emilie: Oh my god.

Isabelle: It was so different with Max.

Emilie: …Because he actually cares.

Isabelle: Yes. The first time I just…

Emilie: What happened?

Isabelle: I… broke down.

Emilie: Oh, Belle.

Isabelle: I just—panicked. Everything hit me at once.

Emilie: What did he do?

Isabelle: He stopped immediately. Held me. Told me we didn’t have to do anything, that he just wanted me to feel safe.

Emilie: Oh my god.

Isabelle: And then the next time…

Emilie: He remembered everything.

Isabelle: Every single thing I liked. What made me feel good. What made me feel wanted.

Emilie: Because he pays attention.

Isabelle: Exactly.

Emilie: That’s that racecraft in bed, huh?

Isabelle: Emilie.

Emilie: No, but think about it! The man lives to optimize performance. He knows how to read data, analyze conditions, adjust his approach for maximum efficiency—

Isabelle: STOP.

Emilie: No, because it’s true!

Isabelle: …I mean. You’re not wrong.

Emilie: I KNEW IT.

Isabelle: I hate you.

Emilie: No, you love me. But not as much as you love Max Verstappen blowing your mind every night.

Isabelle: I’M BLOCKING YOU.

Emilie: So tell me everything.

Isabelle: I already told you enough.

Emilie: Isabelle. You literally admitted that every guy before Max made sex feel like a chore, that you had to fake it, and that it was sometimes painful. And then, suddenly, Max comes in? You owe me details.

Isabelle: It was just… different. From the second he touched me, it was like he was paying attention to every single reaction, every little noise I made. I didn’t even have to say anything—he just knew.

Emilie: Oh my god.

Isabelle: And it wasn’t just physical. It was—I felt safe. I wasn’t just a body, I wasn’t just there to be used. He made me feel like I was the most important thing in the world to him.

Emilie: Belle.

Isabelle: I was so nervous at first. I wanted it to be good, I wanted to enjoy it, but I had all these bad experiences in my head, and I kept waiting for it to go wrong.

Emilie: But it didn’t?

Isabelle: No. Because Max—he’s so patient. Even when I got overwhelmed, he just slowed down and made sure I was okay.

Emilie: And then?

Isabelle: And then it was… mind-blowing.

Emilie: Define mind-blowing.

Isabelle: Emilie.

Emilie: I’m serious. Because I need to understand how we went from you faking it to you losing your mind completely.

Isabelle: …Okay.

Emilie: Yes.

Isabelle: So, you know how Max is in the car, right?

Emilie: Oh my god.

Isabelle: The way he reads conditions, the way he adapts in real time, the way he knows exactly when to push?

Emilie: STOP.

Isabelle: It’s the same.

Emilie: I KNEW IT.

Isabelle: I’m serious. He’s so in tune with everything, like he’s constantly adjusting, constantly making it better.

Emilie: He’s optimizing performance.

Isabelle: YES.

Emilie: Max Verstappen. Two-time World Champion. Fastest driver on track, fastest learner in bed.

Isabelle: I am not dignifying that with a response.

Emilie: But you’re not denying it.

Isabelle: …

Emilie: BELLE.

Isabelle: I didn’t even know it could feel like that.

Emilie: Wow.

Isabelle: Like, I thought those romance novels were lying. I thought all that passion and chemistry and overwhelming pleasure was just fake.

Emilie: But then you met Max Verstappen.

Isabelle: He’s just… so good to me. And not just in bed. He takes care of me, he makes me laugh, he listens to me. He actually sees me.

Emilie: I love that. But also, I need to understand the full scope of the dominance we’re dealing with here.

Isabelle: You sound like an F1 journalist trying to analyze Red Bull’s advantage in the regs.

Emilie: I am an F1 journalist trying to analyze Max Verstappen’s advantage in the bedroom.

Isabelle: …I hate that sentence.

Emilie: Okay, but is he like methodical with it? Like does he go in with a strategy?

Isabelle: Emilie.

Emilie: No, I need to know if he’s a precision driver or a send-it-and-hope-for-the-best kind of guy.

Isabelle: …He’s both.

Emilie: EXCUSE ME???

Isabelle: It’s like he’s calculating everything in real-time, but then when the moment’s right—he just commits. No hesitation. No second-guessing.

Emilie: So what I’m hearing is… late-braking masterclass.

Isabelle: I knew you were going to say that.

Emilie: AND I’M RIGHT.

Isabelle: He literally waits until the last possible second, and then it’s like—boom. You can’t react fast enough.

Emilie: So he takes the racing line and the perfect approach angle.

Emilie: I’m just saying, if he starts looking at data after, I’m going to scream.

Isabelle:

Isabelle: …He does kind of ask for feedback.

Emilie: STOP.

Isabelle: And then he actually remembers everything I like.

Emilie: You’re telling me Max Verstappen actively takes notes on how to ruin your life?

Isabelle: Pretty much.

Emilie: If he ever applies this level of dedication to anything else, we’re all doomed.

Isabelle: He already does. It’s called Formula 1.

Emilie: And now he’s doing it to you.

Emilie: I need a moment.

Isabelle: Take your time.

Emilie: …Actually, no, I don’t, because I need to ask the most important question.

Isabelle: Oh, no.

Emilie: How many times?

Isabelle: EMILIE.

Emilie: I NEED TO KNOW.

Isabelle: …four.

Emilie: FOUR?!?

Isabelle: I told you. Life-altering.

Emilie: Max Verstappen is out here setting lap records and you’re only telling me now??

Isabelle: Well, I wasn’t going to text you midway through.

Emilie: I AM SO HAPPY FOR YOU.

Isabelle: Thank you. So am I.

Emilie: Isabelle.

Isabelle: Emilie.

Emilie: Max Verstappen ruined you.

Isabelle: He rebuilt me.

***

Meanwhile on Twitter:

@/paddocktea: Isabelle Leclerc is my Roman Empire and here’s why:

@/paddocktea: People know her as Charles Leclerc’s baby sister, born right in the middle between him and Arthur.

@/paddocktea: But there is so much more to her…She’s the most overlooked yet most intriguing Leclerc sibling. She’s always there, always supporting, but somehow, she remains in the background.

@/paddocktea: And because it’s her 24th birthday today… Here is everything you need to know about Isabelle Leclerc.

@/paddocktea: While Arthur’s karting career was put on ice to fund Charles’ career, a lesser known fact is that the family also sold Isabelle’s childhood horse to help fund Charles’ racing.

@/paddocktea: They SOLD HER HORSE. HER. HORSE. To help fund Charles’ career. Like, imagine being 13, losing both your sport and your horse while your brother gets to keep racing. If I were her, I’d still be holding a grudge.

@/paddocktea: …but instead apparently it’s a throwaway line in the family lore that Charles has only ever mentioned once in an interview, while he has mentioned Arthur’s “sacrifice” multiple times.

@/paddocktea: Still, instead of causing drama, she put her head down and worked. She studied architecture while also being there for every major moment of her brothers’ careers. It wasn’t just about showing up to races—she was always supporting them.

@/paddocktea: The few times she does give interviews? It’s never about her. She just hypes up her brothers. Every single time. No complaints, no bitterness—just, "They work so hard, I’m really proud of them.” If I sacrificed as much as she did, I’d be insufferable, but she’s just so sweet and adores her brothers more than anything else.

@/paddocktea: Anyway, Isabelle Leclerc is the backbone of the Leclerc family, and I need people to start appreciating her.

↳@/paddockinsider: WAIT. They SOLD her horse to fund Charles’ career?! I did NOT know this. That’s actually insane.

↳@/formulatea: They really said ‘sorry girl, no more childhood joy for you, we gotta get Charles to F1’ 😭

↳@hoofbeatsandcheckeredflags: As a horse girl, I would NEVER forgive them. I would be bringing this up at every family dinner.

↳ @f1drama: No bc imagine your parents sitting you down like ‘hey, your brother needs to go fast so we’re getting rid of your best friend, hope you understand xx’

↳@f1archivist: How did this never make it into Drive to Survive?? Like hello, Netflix, this is PEAK drama.

↳@girlmathf1: They stole her childhood and she still shows up at races supporting them. Isabelle Leclerc is a better person than me fr.

↳@gossipinthepaddock: So you’re telling me Charles got a career and Arthur got a second chance at racing, while Isabelle got… character development???

***

Instagram Post – @/isabelleleclerc

Comments:

@/charles_leclerc: Happy 24th! 🎂

@/f1fashionista93: Happy birthday, Isabelle! You deserve all the happiness in the world. 💐✨

@/emilie_abadie: Happy birthday to my favorite human! You deserve the best year ahead—can’t wait to see what it has in store for you 💖"

@/leclercsquad_: Happy birthday, Isabelle! I can’t wait to see all the amazing things you do this year! 🎉💐

***

Her phone had buzzed all morning with Leclerc family group chat notifications—heart emojis from Arthur, a single “Joyeux anniversaire x” from Charles, Lorenzo asking if she’d gotten the spa voucher he emailed (“it expires in two months, so use it soon!”), and her mother’s text: “Hope you like the book. And the suit!”

The book was titled “How to Be More Assertive: Owning Your Voice in a Loud World.

The suit was black. Structured. Corporate.

Isabelle had never worn a pantsuit in her life. She barely wore pants, unless she was on a horse or doing pilates.

Arthur’s gift had arrived wrapped in glossy blue paper—inside was a heavy coffee table book about the history of golf.

Charles had sent an Amazon gift card.

She had smiled. Said thank you in the chat. Told herself they were trying. That they were busy. That this was just how birthdays went for her in her family—slightly impersonal, vaguely thoughtful, and always… a little off.

And it wasn’t like she needed more. Emilie had taken her out the evening before, dinner just the two of them, which had been lovely… and which had ended with a single chocolate cupcake with a lit candle that she had blown out with a huge grin on her face. The two of them had giggled like teenagers and ended up sharing it.

Emilie had given her a whole basket full of things, like she was always prone to be doing. It was stuffed full with Isabelle’s favourite things, from her favourite bar of chocolate, to her favourite soap, a new bottle of signature perfume (always Miss Dior), new workout clothing, because she had mentioned in an offhand way that the zipper on her favourite jacket kept opening up… filled with the kind of thoughtful little things that Emilie Abadie hoarded like the french dragon with expensive perfume and perfect eyeliner that she was.

Really, that basket more than made up for anything her family did.

And now, here she was sitting on the sofa a at Max’s place that evening, sipping her favourite wine in her favourite sweater, legs tucked under her.

She was happy. Completely and utterly content.

Max came in from the kitchen, a little grin tugging at his lips, something behind his back.

“Okay,” he said, “I know you said you didn’t want anything fancy…”

She narrowed her eyes. “Max.”

“But,” he continued, stepping closer, “you’re turning twenty-four, and that feels like it should come with something a little special.”

He pulled a small velvet box from behind his back.

Isabelle blinked. “Max—”

“Just open it,” he said, sitting beside her.

She opened the box slowly—and froze.

Inside was a bracelet.

Diamonds and Emeralds connected with delicate gold fixing. The emeralds were a deep, deep green.

The exact shade of green that lit her eyes when she was excited, or furious, or pretending not to cry during animal rescue commercials.

She didn’t speak.

Max leaned in, his voice softer now. “Emeralds. Because it’s your birthstone. And because every time I see your eyes in the sun, I think—how does that color even exist?”

Her breath caught. “You remembered.”

“Of course I did,” he said. “You’re the easiest person in the world to pay attention to, Belle.”

She bit her lip, suddenly blinking too fast. “It’s beautiful.”

He unclasped it, slid it gently onto her wrist, then lifted her hand to his lips and kissed it.

“You deserve beautiful things. Not because it’s your birthday. Just because you’re you.”

Isabelle didn’t mean to tear up. She really didn’t.

But here was Max—watching her with that look like she mattered—giving her something not just expensive, but personal. Thoughtful. Kind.

She laughed through the tears, wiping at her face. “Sorry. I’m being ridiculous.”

“You’re not,” he said, pulling her into his chest. “You’re just not used to being seen properly. But I see you.”

“I love it,” she whispered. “It’s perfect.”

And she meant it.

Because it wasn’t about the bracelet.

It was the way he saw her.

The way he always did.

Not as the sister. Not as the quiet one.

Not as someone who needed a personality makeover or to be more “assertive.”

Just as Isabelle.

And for once—just once—that was more than enough.

***

Text Conversation: Isabelle Leclerc & Emilie Abadie

Isabelle: Max got me a bracelet.

Emilie: Of course he did.

Isabelle: Emilie. It’s emerald.

Isabelle: He said it’s my birthstone and that it matches my eyes.

Emilie: Isabelle, I need you to breathe.

Isabelle: I AM TRYING.

Emilie: This man is not just spoiling you; he is actively ruining you for anyone else.

Isabelle: Right???

Emilie: Send a picture. Now.

Isabelle: Attachment: photo.jpg

Emilie: Holy. Shit.

Emilie: That is not just a bracelet. That is a statement.

Isabelle: What statement?

Emilie: “You are mine, and I will give you the world.”

Isabelle: …

Emilie: You’re staring at it right now, aren’t you?

Isabelle: I haven’t taken my eyes off it since he clasped it onto my wrist.

Emilie: Isabelle.

Isabelle: Emilie.

Emilie: How are you still alive?

Isabelle: Unclear. Might be running purely on shock at this point.

Emilie: I warned you. I told you he was in deep.

Isabelle: I didn’t think this deep.

Emilie: Oh, honey. He is drowning.

Isabelle: What am I supposed to do with this??

Emilie: Love him back. That’s literally all he wants.

Isabelle: …I already do.

***

Text Conversation: Max Verstappen & Emilie Abadie

Max: I thought you were joking.

Emilie: Oh, Max. I wish I was.

Max: Arthur really got her a coffee table book about golf.

Emilie: She doesn’t even like golf.

Max: EXACTLY.

Emilie: I’m convinced he just panic-bought it at the airport.

Max: And Charles… a generic Amazon gift card.

Emilie: Isabelle literally used last year’s gift card to buy presents for other people because she didn’t even want anything from Amazon.

Max: I actually feel secondhand embarrassment.

Emilie: Welcome to my world.

Max: Lorenzo got her a Spa Voucher with only 2 months left on it. I am pretty sure that was a gift he once got.

Emilie: That’s still better than the self help book her mother bought her “How to be more assertive”. (I mean I guess she tried, she did buy her that new pantsuit…just that Isabelle has never worn a pantsuit in her life. She never wears pants, AT ALL, unless she works out or is at the stables.)

Max: I— No. I need to sit down.

Emilie: Oh, don’t worry, Max. She’s used to it. That’s what makes it worse.

Max: That’s actually depressing.

Emilie: Right?? I feel like I’m the only one who actually pays attention.

Max: I feel like I need to apologize on their behalf.

Emilie: Oh, you’ve already done enough. You got her a bracelet with emeralds to match her eyes.

Max: That’s just normal? It’s not hard?

Emilie: Max, you put more thought into one gift than her family has in a decade.

Max: Good. She deserves better.

***

Text Messages: Max Verstappen & Victoria Verstappen

Victoria: So… still in love?

Max: More every day.

Victoria: You’re such a sap.

Max: You asked.

Victoria: I did. Because I knew you’d say something like that.

Max: And yet, here you are, pretending to be surprised.

Victoria: Not surprised, just entertained.

Max: Glad my happiness is amusing to you.

Victoria: Oh, it is. You’re actually just gone.

Max: I know.

Victoria: And you’re fine with that?

Max: More than fine. Best thing that’s ever happened to me.

Victoria: …Wow.

Max: What?

Victoria: Nothing. Just… I’ve never seen you like this.

Max: Me neither. But I don’t want it to stop.

Victoria: Then don’t.

Max: I won’t.

Victoria: Good.

Max: …You’re being suspiciously nice.

Victoria: I can be supportive, you know.

Max: Yeah, but usually there’s teasing first.

Victoria: True. But I don’t think I need to say anything. You’re already completely and utterly done for.

Max: Not wrong.

Victoria: So, when do I get to hear about the inevitable dumb thing you’ll do to impress her?

Max: What makes you think I’ll do something dumb?

Victoria: Max. You bought an entire penthouse just to work with her.

Max: …That’s not dumb. That’s practical.

Victoria: Sure, sure. Practical.

Max: It is! I needed a new place anyway. And I have great taste.

Victoria: She has great taste. You just followed her lead.

Max: …Still counts.

Victoria: Sooo, can I follow your mysterious girlfriend on Instagram yet, or is she still top secret?

Max: …

Victoria: Max. It’s been two months.

Max: And?

Victoria: And I want to know who she is! Give me something. A name? A clue? Anything?

Max: Isabelle.

Victoria: Isabelle what?

Max: …Leclerc.

Victoria:

Victoria: HOLD ON.

Victoria: As in Leclerc-Leclerc?? Like, Charles Leclerc???

Max: Yes.

Victoria: AS IN HIS QUIET LITTLE SISTER FROM KARTING???

Max: Yeah.

Victoria: OH MY GOD.

Victoria: I remember her! She was always at the races! Super quiet, always watching.

Max: That’s her.

Victoria: AWWWW. MAX.

Max: What?

Victoria: She’s perfect for you! She was always so sweet!

Max: …Thanks?

Victoria: Does Charles know??

Max: No.

Victoria: Max.

Max: Isabelle wants to keep it private.

Victoria: But why??

Max: Her family… it’s complicated.

Victoria: What do you mean? The Leclercs are like, the most wholesome F1 family ever.

Max: Her brothers are close with each other. She just…exists in their periphery and is forgotten 90% of the time.

Victoria: Max, that’s awful.

Max: I know.

Victoria: And they still don’t know you’re together?

Max: Nope.

Victoria: You haven’t told Charles??

Max: Isabelle doesn’t want them to know.

Victoria: I mean, I get it, but… that’s really sad.

Max: Yeah.

Victoria: But you make her happy?

Max: I try.

Victoria: Good.

Victoria: But just so you know, when this does come out, Charles might actually explode.

Max: I know.

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