#but wasn't verstappen and leclerc the same? | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

viennakarma · 11 months ago

Text

Everything I Wanted I.

LESTAPPEN X READER (Part 1)

Summary: Your journey to become a Motorsport legend wasn't easy, especially when your path clashed with your greatest rivals, Max Verstappen and Charles Leclerc.

Word count: 7.1k

Tags: Driver reader, mentions of crash, abusive parent, daddy issues, trust issues, character death (not reader), cursing, strong rivalry, misogyny in motorsport, invasive media, aggressive fans, reader suffers with cyberbullying and hate, smut, female reader, +18, unprotected sex, voyeurism, exhibtionism, edging, filthy, porn with plot, queer! everyone, polyamory lestappen, bit of dirty talking, pet names, not beta read

Relationships: Lestappen x Reader

Mentor!Kimi Raikkonen x Reader

Sebastian Vettel, Fernando Alonso, Lewis Hamilton x Platonic!Reader

Notes: this is full of motorsport categories inaccuracies, just go with the vibes please. There are a few inaccuracies regarding other drivers' lives, but they are just to fit the story. I know I said it was a oneshot, but the thing got out of hand, and I had to split it in half. Soon there will be a part 2! English is not my first language, so please ignore any mistake!

Find me on Twitter!

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

“They’re not friends, you understand? They’re rivals, and that’s all they’ll ever be.”

You stand, hugging your helmet firmly against your chest, your dad’s words louder than the ringing in your ear from the way he slapped the side of your head. You were 9 and it was your first time competing in a karting competition. You tried to befriend the other kids your age, but as soon as your dad called you away, fuming, you knew it was a mistake.

You followed your dad’s orders, and didn’t talk to any of the boys again. Max was already cold towards you, so he pretty much ignored your existence. But Charles was more talkative, and as you stopped answering him, he became taunting, annoying, but you didn’t fall behind, you used to clap back at him with the same intensity.

Sometimes you eavesdropped on their conversations, initially it wasn’t intentional, but they were always complaining about you, calling you names, and you realized your dad was right, they would never see you as a friend or equal, only as a rival.

One day you’re walking by when you hear your name in their conversation.

“Nah, don’t worry about Y/N,” Max shrugged, his accent thick, as he pointed to the side of his temple “she’s a little slow, but maybe she’ll catch up.”

You stood there, his words echoing in your head, she’s a little slow, that was a kind way to call you stupid, which, compared to the way your father called you that many times, it was much sweeter. You shouldn’t have let that get to your head, specially said that way. But then again, you were 11, and you kept hearing those words again and again in your head. You never considered yourself dumb, your grades in school were average, and whenever you had time off of karting to study for your exams, your grades became even better, a little above average.

And despite knowing that, after going back home after the competition, you spent the whole Saturday at the local library, studying everything you could find on motorsports and Formula One. You lent books on strategy, history, and even mechanics. Every spare time you had, you spent reading those books, or lending others. You didn’t want to be slow as they had called you.

After that, you stopped talking to Max completely.

“This is a waste!” Your dad shouted, and you flinched, taking a discreet step back, away from him, trying to avoid him getting physical.

You had argued with him, which made him more furious. You tried to tell him it wasn’t your fault, you were just as good at racing as everyone else, maybe better, but no one was willing to give a girl a chance. It made him even angrier.

“You had one job! You get into F4 on your first try!”

You wanted to tell him it wasn’t your fault. That they weren’t willing to give a girl a chance, even if you were better than half of the boys who made it to F4. But your dad didn’t care about any of it, he wanted you to succeed or nothing. He used to always say that anything below first place is failure.

So he decided you, at 14, weren’t worth the money he spent on karting. And he simply left. Making peace with the fact that your dad never saw you as his kid, but more like an investment, was hard.

“You’re never going to be a Formula 1 champion.” Was the last thing he said to you, before dropping you at your mom’s to never come back.

Living with your mom ever since your dad gave you up was something else. She had lost everything after the divorce, thanks to a prenup she had naively signed without knowing anything about it. So when you moved in with her, you noticed how the house was smaller than your dad’s, you two slept in the single room that was there. Your mom worked two jobs living paycheck to paycheck, and you barely saw her. But she was kind, comforting.

You soon realized that she wouldn’t be able to provide for your karting career. So you lied, you told her your dad was still paying for the karting, and you found two part time jobs to pay for racing. You mom worked so much, she didn’t notice your absence in the afternoons, when you went to work in an auto repair shop. Sometimes, on the rare occasions she was off work in the afternoons, you lied and told her you were out with friends, or studying in the library or even doing extracurriculars. You had the best intentions, you used to tell yourself at night whenever you laid awake, you knew she would blame herself or even work herself to death to provide for you.

The entirety of the next year was a constant struggle, and you worked, and scrapped and lied your way through the entire karting competition. It was one of your last chances to get into F4, and you weren’t sure you could live another year that way, without a sponsor.

When the competition ended, you were second place overall. Your kart had problems during the race and you were sad that it affected your performance in a race you could’ve won.

You walked closer as you saw a few of the other boys gathering around some adults, you eyed them curiously. As soon as you noticed who they were, you swallowed. They were probably scouts, it was very common in finals of these competitions, you were used to it. You also were used to being ignored by all of them scouts. You had tried many times before to make connections and make yourself known, maybe even meeting a potential sponsor, but they always ignored you. They weren’t interested in a girl, they didn’t care about a woman in motorsports. Your only hope was that one day you would meet a female scout and she would see your potential.

But meanwhile, there were only men, and they didn’t give two fucks about you. So you didn’t even get close enough to join, you heard Charles and Max talking with them, and you just turned around, going back to your kart.

You pulled a few tools from your backpack, working to fix the difficulties you felt during the race.

“What are you doing?” A man approached you, crouching close to watch your work. You briefly looked up, the guy was wearing sunglasses and a cap, just a normal guy, looking like someone’s dad.

“I’m fixing my steering wheel, it was a bit stuck during the race so I had to double the force used to be able to make it work,” you explained, and he nodded.

“You finished second, right? Why are you here by yourself?” The man asked.

“The other kids don’t like me very much. And they’re talking to the scouts,” you shrugged, trying not to think about all the opportunities they would get and you wouldn’t.

“You should be there, no? Meeting scouts is important for your career.”

“They’re not very interested in a girl racer. Believe me, I know.” You muttered, finishing with the steering wheel, testing to see if it was working all right. You turned, fixing your left rear tyre. The tyre wasn’t responding very well to the braking, “besides, my kart won’t fix itself, right? Look, you see how this tyre is slower to respond to my braking? It messed up with my balance during the race. I could have won.”

“Shouldn’t you take your kart somewhere to get it fixed?” The man asked, helping you unscrew the tyre.

“Can’t afford it,” you said, “I’m saving to try and get into F4, so I can’t spare any money on this one.”

You weren’t usually this talkative with new people, mostly keeping to yourself. But maybe you were missing a grownup figure in your life since your dad had dipped and your mom was always busy. And that man sounded really interested in your stuff, so it felt natural explaining to him.

“So, no one sponsoring you?” He asked, which made you look at him again, hesitantly.

“No, uh, I had one but he dropped me last year” you said, leaving out that part that it was your dad.

“You know who I am?” The man asked and you looked at him, shaking your head.

“Someone’s dad? I mean, I haven’t been introduced to all the kids and their parents yet, but you’re kinda familiar, so-” As you were babbling and trying to explain, he took off the cap and sunglasses, and you immediately recognized him, “oh my god!”

“Shh, shh” he silenced you, putting the disguise back.

“You’re Kimi Raikkonen!” You whispered, and he nodded.

“I’ll be your new sponsor, eh? What do you say?”

"Just like that?"

"Just like that," he nodded.

"How do you know I'm good enough for a sponsorship?" You asked, genuinely curious.

"Well, are you good enough for a sponsorship?" He asked. He had been keeping an eye out at that very category, and you had caught his attention as seemingly smart and emotionally controlled with the kart.

"I'm the best of the bunch," you smiled at him and you won him over with that answer.

Kimi became your lifeline, in a way. His family was quick to embrace you in an affectionate way you would’ve never expected of them. They invited you for their little New Year’s party, and you eventually told everything about your life to Kimi. His wife Minttu had also taken you as one of her own and their kids liked you a lot.

Under Minttu’s suggestion, Kimi also enrolled you in language classes, so besides English, you spent the next years learning French and Spanish, and you also caught a little Finnish from being so close to them.

You kept pushing your way up from F4 to F3 and so on, but instead of climbing it steadily like the boys, you had to win two or three times more than them to prove you were worth taking the next step.

You were 16 when your paths crossed with the boys from your childhood again. They recognised you, but they never really talked to you, so they didn't this time around either.

Coming out of the bathroom you once again caught a conversation, and you stopped dead as soon as you heard your name.

“No, not really… I don’t see her like that at all- she’s- uh-” Charles was speaking, probably looking for the words in english, “-she’s more like one of the boys.”

You paused, your breath hitched.

“Yeah,” that was Max, “I don’t see her like that either. I guess she doesn’t care about the things girls her age do.”

You felt a lump in your throat, retreating back to the bathroom. You stood in front of the mirror, watching your face as the tears fell down on your cheeks. You were dressed in your regular racing day attire, cargo pants and a sweater. You didn’t wear makeup and your hair was all frizzy because of the helmet.

The next time you went to the Raikkonen residence, you pulled Minttu aside one moment.

“I want to be pretty. Will you help me?”

You two went through a long chat with Minttu reassuring you that you were pretty in your own way and you insisting you wanted to be pretty like other girls, more feminine and girly.

When you entered F2 after the winter break, you felt and looked like some better version of yourself. Minttu had helped you set a skincare routine that was already helping clear your face from teenage acne. She also took you to a hair salon, where you trimmed your hair and made a few highlights. She upgraded your wardrobe, and even if you tried to refuse saying it was too much, she said it was a Christmas gift and wouldn’t take no for an answer.

Your path until reaching F1 was slow and steady, and you were a reserve driver for two years before finally getting a seat at McLaren. You knew Kimi probably had a hand in getting you a chance, but he denied every time you asked.

Kimi told you the raw truth before the season started. He and Minttu sat you down and talked about how the world and Formula 1 would expect more of you than of any other rookie. How they would stress your mistakes tenfold. How they would diminish your achievements with the same intensity. You weren’t afraid, really.

“I’ve lived with my greatest hater more than half of my life, I can handle strangers” you had laughed to the couple.

Still, Kimi taught you everything about his Iceman persona, and told you to pick whatever you wanted from it. Minttu also convinced you to start therapy, which you accepted.

The hate started as soon as you were announced. Beyond the regular misogyny, they were calling you too old to be a rookie at 24, they were questioning your abilities even with numerous championships from other categories to back you up, even with the fact that your mentor was Kimi fucking Raikkonen. But you didn’t let any of that get under your skin.

Sebastian Vettel was quickly drawn to you, and he became your first friend in Formula 1. He had been close with Kimi from the time they were teammates, and he kinda adopted you.

The guys your age didn’t want to get too close to you. The very few times they talked or walked with you, it sparked romance rumors, and soon they pretty much ignored or avoided you. You knew their intentions weren't to be mean, they were probably just avoiding problems with the media and their girlfriends or wives, but it didn’t hurt any less every time they walked straight past you.

One of those times you were going to the group press conference and all three of the guys walked past you as you tried to chat with them. Your shoulders slumped, and you swallowed the lump in your throat.

“What was that?” You jumped at the sound of another voice. You looked behind you to see Fernando Alonso walking up to you. Up until that point, he had been polite to you.

“Oh,” you stumbled over your words, “being seen talking to me is bad press, apparently.”

“Una tontería,” he muttered, shaking his head, which made you laugh, surprised. He put a friendly hand over your shoulder and led you to the media session.

Simples as that, Fernando too became your friend.

You asked your PR manager, Amanda, to bend a few rules to make sure you would always be at the press conference with Seb and Nando or at least one of them. Most of the time, you did. But sometimes you were unlucky and had to sit stiffly through rounds of absurdly odd (and downright misogynistic) questions by yourself.

Soon you gave up on befriending the other drivers and being charming to the media. You realized the Iceman persona of Kimi looked like a good way to protect yourself from the clutches of the motorsport world. By the sixth race of the year, you gained the Lioness nickname. An agile hunter in your driving style and just as fierce in your answers.

“You’re always seen more comfortable with either Sebastian or Fernando, who are way older than you” some reporter said, “why is that?”

“I believe we’re closer in maturity age,” you said, face expressionless. You heard snickers around the room and you looked to Fernando who was visibly holding a laugh.

“So you’re saying the other drivers are immature?” The reporter pressed, but you didn’t want to talk anymore.

“No,” it’s all you answered, putting your mic down.

Everyone already thought you were arrogant, selfish, and superficial, and as you embraced your cold persona, you just fed into their assumptions. You couldn't care less, it was a good way to protect yourself, to be distant from the media who were constantly trying to drag you to the dirt.

“You mentioned the other day that you believe you should’ve joined F1 around the time the guys your age did. Why do you think that didn’t happen?”

“Because of what’s between my legs, Brian” you deadpanned.

You had to prove yourself two or three times more than the boys every single step of the way, to get into F4, F3, F2 and now F1. You made it, you were there, between the 20 best of motorsport in the whole world… and still… Still you had to hear questions about how you managed to race with a period, questions about boyfriends, questions about hair care or skin care, or whatever. You wouldn’t mind any of that if those were common questions, if they were asked of every driver, but they were only asked of you.

“I would like to express that, from now on, I will only answer questions that would be asked of the male drivers too, about the sport, about the cars, about strategies and everything that revolves around racing,” you warned one day before the end of a media conference when someone asked if your PMS interfered in your racing.

You started to not give two fucks about the media. Every time someone asked you a misogynistic question you just stared at them and put your mic down. So those types of question died down a little bit.

“Do you think you would’ve already been world champion had you entered Formula 1 earlier, let’s say at age 19/20?”

“Yes.”

Most of the guys ignored or avoided you, but your path always clashed with Charles Leclerc and Max Verstappen. They always hinted at not liking you in the slightest, and the media and the fans started catching up to it, throughout your rookie year. They would shamelessly shade you, and you never backed down, giving it as hard as you got.

You walked to a reporter, still using a towel to dry your face at the post race interview.

“Did you hear what Leclerc said about your move as you left the pits?” The man asked you.

“No, I didn’t. Do I look like I care about a man’s opinion?” You said, loud and clear.

You got as many fans as you got haters, especially as you messed with Leclerc’s and Verstappen’s loud fanbases. It wasn’t really on purpose, but one of them would usually jab at you in interviews, and when word got back to you, it would anger you to no end, and you would shade them back, and in an insane amount of back-and-forths until your rivalry was in articles, the news, twitter threads, and in the mind of every single reporter in a race week.

“Verstappen talked about your overtake at lap 49, he said it was a dirty move.”

“Like he did to me back in Silverstone?” Your eyes held a mischievous glint as you scoffed, “Funny, you didn’t see me whining about it back then.”

You had the best rookie year ever since Lewis Hamilton debuted. You almost reached the same overall numbers as him, getting six podiums and your first ever Formula 1 victory. You finished the driver’s championship in fifth place, over older drivers that were literal champions of the world.

The first time Lewis Hamilton really engaged in conversation with you was during the FIA Prize Giving Ceremony by the end of the season. You were proudly smiling, holding your Rookie of the Year trophy. He had been polite to you before, but he always looked unattainable, in a way. He was beyond the world of Formula 1.

“Congratulations!” He smiled at you, sitting by your side. Your heart thrumming in your chest, trying not to fangirl too much. Sometimes it was unbelievable sharing casual conversation with legends you grew up admiring from afar.

“Thank you, Lewis. Congratulations on the championship!” You said.

“I’m sorry for not realizing most of the boys were excluding you. I chatted about it with Seb, and he told me your only friends are him and Fernando.” Lewis whispered, looking genuine, “I guess I was so focused on the championship that I didn’t bother to check on you. I’m sorry, really.”

“Don’t worry about it,” you raised your trophy, “I made it, right?”

“Succeeding despite the adversities… I see traits of a champion in you, congratulations” Lewis got up, raising his flute in a toast for you, “see you around, Lioness!”

Soon the next season you realized you had a competitive car. More than the year before. As for the first few races of the season, you had a win and podiums, which put you as a contender for the driver’s championship. Unfortunately the other people competing closely with you were none other than Charles and Max. Your rivalry had died down a bit when they noticed that you only shaded them when they provoked you first. So as their jabs became few and far between, it meant your clap backs did too.

The season was as good as it could get, that is until Monza.

You had felt the problems braking specifically during qualifying and your team tried to fix it but there wasn’t much anyone could do due to parc fermé. So you spent part of the night before the race working with your strategist to find a way around your braking problems and the best way to preserve your tyres.

The data had shown it would take a bit more strength to brake, which would eat up at your tyres quicker than usual, but other than that, everything seemed normal.

You all were wrong.

As the race went on, your brakes got progressively worse, to the point that curves were taking your body strength so much you could feel your muscles sore.

“We are considering retiring the car,” Jace, your engineer said. You inhaled, trying to calm down.

You were barely holding your P5, when you saw a Red Bull approaching you. You weren’t in position to fight, so he overtook you turning in a chicane. But your brakes didn’t work as you tried to slow down behind Max’s car, you tried not going into him but your tyres locked as you tried to avoid his rear. You drove straight into his rear, making the two of you lose control of your car. You braced for impact against the wall but luckily the gravel slowed you enough that you just touched the barrier.

After checking with your engineer, you left the car and saw Max leaving his, both DNFs.

You knew of your fame of being a reckless driver, often known for risky maneuvers and overtakes, but you never dove into someone intentionally because you knew trying to take someone out would mean yourself getting taken out too. As a marshal took you back to the garage on a motorcycle, you were ready to swallow your pride and apologize to Max for accidentally taking him out.

But as soon as you stepped down from the motorcycle, Max was in your space. His face was red and his hair all sweaty and disheveled, when he fronted you, chest to chest. You knew there were dozens of cameras pointed to you, so you tried to diffuse the tension for once.

“Are you insane?! Why did you drive into me?!” He kept advancing and for each of his steps ahead, you took one back to try and explain. But he didn’t give you a second screaming all kinds of curses and blame, “you should’ve never made it to Formula 1!”

His words were like a slap to the face, and you stopped trying to apologize or explain. You put both hands to your back, inflating your chest to face him.

“You don’t get to fucking decide that! You dipshit! Who the fuck do you think you are?” You said to his face, that’s when someone from the RedBull garage ran closer and stood between you.

You watched as he was taken away from you and inside his garage. At the same time your PT found you and walked you back to McLaren.

Changing from your race suit, you tried to cool down before going to the media. You gulped down your water as you watched Charles leading the race, and getting closer to the championship than you.

“There was an altercation between you and Max Verstappen, can you comment on that?”

“He was visibly upset with the racing incident.” It was all you said, after chatting with your PR manager before stepping out to chat with the journalists.

“And what happened at that incident? Can you walk us through it?”

“Yes, uh, we’ve been feeling something wrong with our braking system since yesterday. The data showed us it would require me to be more forceful during braking, which seemed feasible. But the brakes were wearing off during the race and we were about to retire when I completely lost the brakes. I really tried to avoid him but my tyres locked and I ended up hitting Verstappen.”

“Are you sure this accident has nothing to do with the ongoing rivalry between the two of you?” You got offended by the reporter's words.

“Of course! I would never intentionally do something to put myself or other drivers at risk. I have all the data to back me up and anyone can check my onboard.”

The FIA investigated your altercation with Max, and you ended up getting an unsportsmanlike behavior penalty. Two points in your super license.

“What the fuck?! Why the fuck would I be punished for that! There are fourteen different angles from that argument and all of them show how Verstappen aggressively came on to me first!”

It got worse when you heard that only you had gotten a penalty and Max didn’t even get a reprimand.

Everyone close to you noticed how you were on edge next week. During media day your answers were short, dry, and every single journalist seemed to want to talk about the penalty.

“Yes, I do have opinions on my penalty. But no, I won’t talk about it, only the FIA’s opinion is relevant” Your words during the press conference were enough to express a little dissatisfaction and to put an end to those questions. Everyone was surprised at the fact you chose to be quiet about the whole ordeal, they were all expecting your complaints and harsh words.

When you went back to your driver’s room, you went straight to lay your head on your mom’s lap, feeling a bit down. You stayed quiet as she ran her hands through your hair softly untangling it. She knew you were upset and why, so none of you bother to voice anything, bashing in the comforting silence.

The best thing about Formula 1 was being able to retire your mom from working, now you didn’t have to worry about her burning out and she didn’t have to worry about bills or mortgage or debts. Now she had a new, bigger and better house, everything was paid for and you even gave her a credit card for hobbies or whatever she wanted. She sometimes went to the races, but she usually stayed at home, relaxing.

“I know things are hard right now,” you mom started, her voice soft, caring, “but I know you can do it, honey. You’ve faced pushback since the beginning of this dream, but you always came out on top.”

“Thank you for believing in me.”

“You will be a world champion, honey. I know it.” She smiled down at you.

You sat up as your mom removed her watch, handing it to you.

“I wanted to give it to you on your birthday, but I feel like this is the right moment,” she turned the watch, showing you the inscription that read strong woman, and you felt your eyes water, “this was my grandma’s. She gave it to my mom, who gave it to me, and now it’s yours.”

That week you got a victory, raising your P1 trophy for your mom, who was watching you with a hand on her heart, crying happy tears.

As the season progressed the championship became even tighter between the three of you. Mere points set the three of you apart, and with each week result, the P1, P2 and P3 shifted between you. It had become one of the most competitive seasons in the sport.

When the third to last race came in Qatar, you were P3 in the championship, and you needed at least P4 in that race to keep fighting for the championship. You didn’t care about anything other than getting a podium, focused on your racing mindset, no distractions. If you only got that win, it would mean getting back that P1 in the championship and you would go down in history.

You were P3 after your last pitstop of the race, you had a small window of time to take advantage of being with new mediums while everyone else was with old softs. You had to pull ahead and open at least ten seconds, so you could become first when Max went to the pits. You had the perfect opportunity for an undercut.

That was until you overtook Charles’ Ferrari for P2. You passed him easily, he hadn’t gone to the pits yet, so he had old tyres. But you frowned as Jace warned you about Leclerc trying to take the position back. He couldn’t fight against your new tyres, everyone knew that. You accelerated to open a distance, but as you went fast into turn 4, you only felt the hit to your side, making you lose control of the car.

It was barely a few seconds that you couldn’t wrap your head around, so shocked you couldn’t brake, only feeling your stomach churn as you braced for impact. The second hit came against the barriers even harder than the first, it shook your whole body, leaving you dizzy and out of breath.

You talked with Jace, telling him in a shaky voice that you were okay but out of breath, and you unlocked your seatbelts with trembling hands. After removing your steering wheel, you tried to get up but you were dizzy and your legs felt like jelly. A marshal helped you out of the car, but as soon as your feet were on the ground, you stumbled to your knees. The nausea got the best of you and you puked against your balaclava and inside the helmet. The marshals made a small shield around you, as one of them helped you remove the helmet and balaclava, still dry heaving. The marshal gave you a towel, and you cleaned the best you could as the ambulance was coming.

You looked behind you to your destroyed car.

And just like that, you had lost any chance at the championship.

You held your tears as you went through the medical procedures and examinations. The world had been muted in the background and you could only hear the noise of the crash, visualizing your ruined car, and your dreams being crushed once again.

But as you came back to the hospitality, you found your mom, and sobbed quietly against her chest.

“It’s ok, honey. It’s okay,” her voice was so soothing and the pain meds were working, so you cried yourself to sleep while she held you.

Later that day, you watched the replay of your crash. Leclerc had gone way too close to you, but in turn 4 he hit the curbs and lost control, hitting your car right in the middle, full force. Your car had spun out a lot then hit the barriers. It was lucky that you had come out of the crash relatively unharmed, it was ugly and could’ve been a lot worse, from the way you spun and the G force your car hit the barrier with.

“You’re still watching that?” Your mom’s voice sounded in the middle of the night.

“He shouldn’t have tried to fight for the position back, he didn’t even have enough tyres for that! And he was way too close, look!”

Your mom closed your laptop, putting it on the coffee table. She took your hands in hers and smiled gently.

“I’m sorry about the championship. But I’m glad you’re okay, that was one of the scariest couple of seconds of my entire life,” she whispered, teary eyed.

“I’m sorry,” you muttered, ashamed that it didn’t cross your mind how worried she might have been.

“It’s okay, honey. There’s always next year, I’m sure you will be world champion. And will be there cheering for you.”

The next week in Jeddah, you felt like the world was out to get you when they put you in the press conference with both Max and Charles, as well as Lewis and Sebastian.

“Y/N, how are you feeling after last week’s crash? It looked pretty bad.” Someone asked.

“I am doing ok, thank you,” that’s all you said into the mic.

“Unfortunately, the crash ultimately took you out of the championship, what do you say about that?”

You were so tired of that question, so tired of your PR manager talking in your head about not blaming Charles publicly, despiste your desire to scream to whoever may hear that the monegasque just wanted to take you out of the competition, so he could fight only Verstappen for the championship. You just wanted the season to be over, in all honesty.

“There’s always next year, right?” You echoed your mom's words, that were also your rehearsed answer. You looked to the side, feeling Sebastian’s hand softly on your forearm, a silent show of support.

You left as soon as it was over. You knew Charles had been trying to talk to you. You supposed it was to apologize, but you weren’t having it. You were still so angry at him that you worried you’d punch him as soon as he was in your face. So you just avoided him like the plague. You didn’t want to see him, and you couldn’t afford another punishment if you acted on your anger.

“Charles has been looking for you,” Sebastian said, walking up to you as you were finishing braiding your hair for the race.

“I have been avoiding him,” you said, not looking at Seb, still focusing on your braids.

“He just wants to apologize.”

“And I want to punch him in the face, so what? We can’t always get what we want” You clenched your jaw, using an elastic band to finish.

“Y/N…” Sebastian sounded tired.

“Don’t Y/N me. I just want this season to be over, ok? The championship was in my reach, and now it’s not. And it wasn’t even my own fault. So no, I won’t see him.”

Sebastian didn’t say anything as he walked to you and pulled you in an affectionate hug that made you want to cry again.

During the driver’s parade, Fernando acted almost as a guard dog, not letting anyone close to you. You talked with him and Lewis about the crash, explaining how it felt to you.

When the season ended, you got a third place trophy during the Prize Giving Ceremony. You remembered your dad’s words throughout the entire night. Coming down from the stage, and you met with Minttu and Kimi, they congratulated you, but you couldn’t shake the feeling of failure. You looked at Charles on the stage with his P2 trophy.

“Anything other than the first is failure, right?” You sighed, eyes glued to the stage, where Max got the trophy of Champion of the World.

“What crap is that?” Kimi said, suddenly.

“My dad used to say that when I was a kid.”

“Well he was an asshole,” Kimi said matter-of-factly, “and he never made it to F1. He didn’t even make it to F4, he has no reason or power to get in your head. You were just a kid. You understand?”

“Yes, Kimi," you swallowed, feeling some kind of wheight being lifted from your shoulders. Kimi had done many great things for your life with very few words, and his succint way of being was great to pull you back to the present whenever you anxiety got the best of you.

You ended up getting the Personality of the Year award too, which was such a surprise that it worked wonders to lift your spirits and to end the season with a sweet note.

Even being in a better mood, you didn’t stay at the party too late, saying your farewell to your friends as you dropped Kimi and his wife at the hotel. You were removing your makeup after a shower when there was a knock on your hotel room door. Thinking it was an emergency, you rushed only to be faced with Charles Leclerc.

“What are you doing here?” You looked around the hall, confused.

“Can I talk to you?” Charles was still dressed in his formal attire, black tie. He fiddled with his fingers as you let him in, afraid someone might see him at your door.

“What?” You crossed your arms as you closed the door.

“I’m really sorry about the crash in Qatar,” he waited for your answer with bated breath.

“Can we have this conversation when next season starts?” You proposed. You knew you weren’t ready for that talk yet, too much anger was still clouding your judgment for a level-headed talk.

“It wasn’t my intention to take you out-” He started but you cut him off.

“Look, you’ve never liked me, I’m aware, and you cost me an entire championship, so I don’t know if I believe you.”

“It really wasn’t intentional, the accident cost me the championship as well,” you could see in his eyes that his patience was wearing thin. But so did yours.

“No it didn’t. You still had a chance even after that DNF, you just didn’t win anyway,” your anger simmered again, making you raise your voice.

“Fuck you! You treat me like this because you always felt like you were better than everyone-”

“I treat you like this?! Be fucking for real, Charles! You hate me so much you took my chance at the championship away!”

“If you had more wins during the season maybe this wouldn’t be a problem right now!”

“Unbelievable! Because you are so much better than me, all you got was second place!”

“Shut up.”

“You’ve always hated me for absolutely no reason-”

“Shut up.”

“And now you think you can barge into my room and tell me you think I’m a shitty driver? I’m not standing for-”

“Shut up!” He shouted, which was so surprising you actually stopped talking.

The both of you were breathing heavily, in one second you were sure you could strangle him, in the next, his lips were against yours and his hand gripping your hair. The kiss was nasty, all teeth and lips and tongue, his hands going down your body, pressing you into him, and your fingers tugging at his suit, ripping the buttons. You broke the kiss, gasping for air, but Charles’ lips found your neck and he bit into your pulse point.

“Fuck you, Charles” you said, breathless, opening his trousers and he ripped your little sleep top with his bare hands.

It was so hot as you stumbled backwards and he followed you, tossing your top behind him, you took off his shirt and undershirt and he helped you kick out your shorts.

Charles pressed you against the wall, kissing you aggressively again, and you moaned as he placed his thigh between your legs, and you ground against him, turned on, dampening his trousers with the wet of your panties. You pressed your hand against his bulge, and he groaned, pressing into you even harder, humping like horny teenagers.

You didn’t even bother to get him naked, with his trousers half undone, you just pulled his cock out, heavy in your hands. You watched his pained expression as you spit on your hand so you could masturbate him.

“Fuck it,” you moaned, knowing grinding on him was not nearly enough.

You pulled your panties to the side, and lined his cock up into you. It was so tight as he slid into you, that your eyes rolled in pleasure, and he raised one of your legs against his waist to make room for his hips. He pulled back and snapped his hips into you again, his cock stretching you so good you were shaking. You put one arm around his shoulders holding on him and the other hand you held his ass under his loose trousers, your nails biting into his flesh as you pushed him even deeper.

“Fuck, ah-” he moaned in your ear, “so hot- putain-”

The loud, wet sounds of his hips pistoning into you were obscene. You angrily bit him, his shoulders, his chest, his jaw and he went even harder, your back hitting the wall behind you, and you pulled his hair, sweat starting to form all over your body.

“Fuck, Charles!” Your moans got even louder, and Charles stuck two fingers into your mouth, muffling your sounds as he fucked you.

He was hitting the perfect spot inside you, and it was enough for you to know you would come that way. You slapped his cheek, taking out some of your anger and he groaned, going harder. He pulled his fingers from your mouth and held your neck, pressing your torso against the wall and choking you a little bit.

“I can’t hold much longer” he warned you between gritted teeth, relentlessly fucking you.

You pinched your own nipples and it didn’t take long for you to come, your cunt clenching so hard around him, it was enough to send him over the edge too.

Shaking, the two of you slid to the floor, breathlessly lying down, half naked and sweaty.

None of you said a word.

When he was ready to go again, he put you on your knees, your torso against the mattress, and he pounded into your cunt mercilessly from behind.

The third and last time was lazy, slow missionary and he held your wrists above your head with one hand, pressed your clit with the other, sucked a few hickeys around your tits and his cock pressed over and over your g-spot.

When you woke up the next morning, Charles was still asleep by your side. You went into the bathroom and showered, hoping he would catch the hint and leave. But as you came out showered and dressed, he was still out cold. So you quietly packed your bag and left for the airport.

#f1 #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 #formula one #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x reader #max verstappen x you #max verstappen x reader #lestappen x reader #lestappen #Spotify

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youreverydayfangirl · 20 days ago

Text

DELICATE

pairing: max verstappen x singer reader

summary: the one where she has reservations, everything's a bit fragile for her and hes persistent

warning: self doubt

a/n: THREE UPDATES????

face claim: sabrina carpenter

f1 masterlist

main masterilst

series masterlist

jimmyandsassysdad has requested to follow

y/nsprivate accepted the follow request

y/nsprivate has requested to follow

jimmyandsassysdad accepted the follow request

y/nsprivate has posted

liked by jimmyandsassysdad, thatoneartgirlalex and 20 others

y/nsprivate still looking for my flynn

thatoneartgirlalex YUMMMYYYYYYYYYY

-> y/nsprivate i was legit drooling over you

keekslikestospammmm HAWWT

-> y/nsprivate STOP I MISS YOU

livbereallydumb hey so can u give a girl a warning first 😍

-> y/nsprivate me anytime i see you

itssabrinaaa u free rn 😏

-> y/nsprivate waiting for you

jimmyandsassysdad look no further

-> leosfather HES GOT GAME

-> thatoneartgirlalex 😱😱 y/nsprivate

-> keekslikestospammmm 😱😱 y/nsprivate

-> livbereallydumb 😱😱 y/nsprivate

-> itssabrinaaa 😱😱 y/nsprivate

-> y/nsprivate 🤭 how about that second date???

-> leosfather HE SHOOTS HE SCORES

f1gossip

iked by exbsf and 126, 098 others

f1gossip some snapshots of your fav f1 couples at Charles Leclercs halloween party last night!!

Tagged: charlesleclerc, alexandrasaintmleux, estebanocon, flavybarla, pierregasly, francisca.cgomes

user1 exbsf in the likes??

-> user2 all she does is try and insert herself into WAG activities tbh

-> user3 right! she did the same thing when lando was still with you know who

user4 alex and charles in the third pic omg

user5 anyone else find it weird that a lot of the grid was invited but lando wasn't

user6 is that y/n y/ln in the last slide

-> user7 IS THAT MAX VERSTAPPEN

-> user8 OMGG????

-> user9 delusional as shit

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

It had been a couple weeks since y/n last saw Max, but the memory of the night was still fresh in her mind. Since then she had spoken to Max over text a handful of times. When the Charles' halloween party came around, she wasn’t entirely surprised to find herself standing beside him, his broad figure decked out in a Top Gun flight suit that looked almost too good on him.

He gave her an appraising look, clearly amused. "So, Rapunzel, huh? Looks like you were ready to let down your hair," he said with a grin, glancing at the long, braided wig she’d chosen for the night.

She laughed, giving a mock curtsy. "Only for special occasions," she teased.

As they mingled through the crowded party, he leaned down, an amused glint in his eyes. "So… does this count as our first date?" he asked, his tone light but a little hopeful.

Y/n smiled, feeling her cheeks heat up as she glanced sideways at him. "Depends," she replied. "Are you going to sweep me off my feet like a real first date?"

Max chuckled, taking her hand with a confidence that made her pulse quicken. "Guess I’ll have to step up my game, then," he said, pulling her closer into the crowd of people dancing.

y/nsprivate has posted

liked by thatoneartgirlalex, keekslikestospammmm and 21 others

y/nsprivate some cute flicks

jimmyandsassysdad GIZMO MENTIONED

-> y/nsprivate HE ALREADY MISSES THEM 😭

thatoneartgirlalex CUTE CUTE CUTE

-> y/nsprivate YOUR CUTE

livbereallydumb wonder who bought those flowers 🤔

-> itssabrinaaa 'just a friend'

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

It was a quiet Sunday night, and the city’s noise was muffled by the gentle sound of rain tapping against the windows. Y/n curled up on the couch next to Max, feeling the warmth of his arm around her as they watched bones together in comfortable silence. His cats, Jimmy and Sassy, had claimed their spots on the other side of the couch, while her own cat, Gizmo, was nestled comfortably in her lap. It was a picture of peaceful simplicity, the kind of evening she never wanted to end.

Max reached for the remote, lowering the volume during a quiet part of the movie. She glanced up, and he looked down at her, eyes soft, as if he’d been waiting for this moment all night. Her heart skipped a beat at the intensity of his gaze.

“Y/n, can I ask you something?” he said quietly, his voice a bit more serious than usual.

“Of course,” she replied, straightening up slightly, her hand absentmindedly scratching Gizmo’s ears.

He hesitated, running a hand through his hair as he searched for the right words. “I just… I need to know, Y/n, what are we?”

Her heart sank, the warmth she’d felt just moments before now turning to panic. She hadn’t been ready for this, not yet. The future, a label, something real, she knew that was what he deserved, but she didn’t know if she could be the one to give it to him. The words choked in her throat, refusing to form.

“Max, I…” she stammered, eyes darting away. Her fingers instinctively went to pet Gizmo, as if somehow grounding herself to reality, but it wasn’t working. The room felt too small, the air too thick. “I don’t… I don’t know if I can give you an answer right now.”

His face softened, though she could see the hurt flicker in his eyes. “I understand if you’re scared. I just want to know if I’m someone you want to try with. I’ll wait, Y/n. But I need to know if there’s something to wait for.”

The vulnerability in his voice shattered her, and she could feel the words bubbling up, desperate to explain herself. But the more she tried to force them out, the more trapped she felt. She swallowed hard, feeling the sting of tears welling up, and before she even fully understood what she was doing, she stood up, gently displacing Gizmo from her lap.

“Y/n?” Max’s voice was laced with concern, but she couldn’t look at him. The room was spinning, and she felt like she was drowning.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, barely audible. “I just… I need to go.”

She grabbed her things, barely managing to gather Gizmo in her arms before heading to the door. She could feel Max’s gaze on her, but she couldn’t bring herself to turn around. Not when she felt so raw, so exposed.

The last thing she heard before she closed the door behind her was the quiet, broken way he’d called her name. And it stayed with her the entire way home, echoing in her mind as she fought the urge to turn back, knowing she wasn’t ready to face the fear or the love that waited for her on the other side of it.

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

Y/n sighed, her eyes lingering on the messages Max had sent her. She replayed his words in her mind, but the part that made her heart race—the moment he’d asked, “What are we?”—had also made her freeze. She didn’t quite understand her reaction, why that question had shaken her so deeply.

It wasn’t that Max had done anything wrong. He’d been everything she could hope for—patient, caring, thoughtful. She knew she felt something real for him, that he’d somehow slipped past every wall she’d built since her breakup with Lando. But beneath that realization, a dark feeling had crept over her, like ink spreading across a page. She was scared. No, she was terrified.

After everything she’d been through, the idea of letting someone in again felt overwhelming. She’d barely managed to piece herself back together after Lando, and she knew that if things fell apart with Max, she might not have the strength to do it again. With Max, she’d fallen fast and hard, in a way that felt both thrilling and dangerous. And how could she not? He was almost too good to be true. Yet, she couldn’t shake the voice in the back of her mind whispering that trust like this came with a cost.

Her relationship with Lando had taught her so much. They’d loved each other, but they’d been unwilling to bend in the ways that mattered. There were too many conflicts, too many moments of stubborn silence. She knew, deep down, that they were never meant to be.

But with Max, it was different. He saw beauty in parts of her that Lando had once found flaws. The qualities she had found exhausting in Lando felt effortless in Max. He was everything.

Yet, she couldn’t bring herself to fall completely, because if she did, Y/n didn’t believe anyone would be there to catch her.

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

Y/n had barely slept the night before, her mind stuck on the way Max had looked at her when he asked, “What are we?” She’d messaged him, asking to meet up, but now, waiting for him here, her stomach twisted with nerves. When she saw him walking toward her, hands tucked in his pockets, that gentle smile on his face, her heart clenched. How was it that he could make her feel both safe and completely vulnerable at the same time?

“Hey,” he greeted, his smile fading a little as he studied her face. “Are you okay?”

She nodded, though the words tangled in her throat, refusing to come out. Max, sensing her hesitation, took a step closer, his eyes filled with a mixture of concern and patience.

“Y/n, talk to me,” he murmured, his voice a soft anchor.

“I… I don’t know why I panicked,” she admitted, voice barely above a whisper. “When you asked what we were.” She saw the flicker of hurt in his eyes and felt guilt wash over her. “It’s not you, Max. You’ve been everything I could want.”

He looked down, nodding slowly as he absorbed her words. “But something’s keeping you from trusting this,” he said gently, sadness tracing his voice.

She exhaled shakily, looking away. “After everything with Lando, I just… I’m terrified, Max. The thought of letting myself fall again, of opening up like that—it scares me. If something went wrong… I don’t think I’d be able to put myself back together.”

He was quiet, letting her words sink in. Then he reached for her hand, his thumb brushing softly over her knuckles. “Y/n,” he said, his voice steady and calm. “I know you’re scared. And I understand that trust isn’t easy when you’ve been hurt before. But I’m not him. I’m here now, and I want us—whatever that looks like for you.”

He tilted her chin up, his eyes meeting hers with a fierce sincerity. “I’m not going anywhere.”

She looked up at him, her eyes brimming with the emotions she’d kept buried. “You deserve someone who’s not this… scared.”

Max shook his head, his expression unwavering. “I want you, Y/n—all of it. The good, the bad, the parts you’re afraid to show. I know I’m asking for a lot, but please, let me in.” His gaze softened, and he gave her hand a gentle squeeze. “We can take it as slow as you need. I’m here for that.”

Y/n felt a weight lift from her chest as she looked into his eyes, realizing that maybe, just maybe, she didn’t have to carry the fear alone. She didn’t have to be fully healed to let herself love him.

With a small, tentative smile, she squeezed his hand back. “Thank you, Max. For being so patient with me.”

A look of relief and warmth spread across his face. “You’re worth the wait, Y/n.”

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

a wayyyy more wordy one for you guys

thank you for all the love on this you guys omgg

also i thought id do a couple now cause halloween is coming up and im gonna be bussyyyy

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

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#f1 masterlist #formula1 #f1 series #f1 fluff #max verstappen fic #max verstappen fluff #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen x reader #repuation #reputation series #max verstappen angst #max verstappen #f1 angst #f1 #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 fic #formula 1

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f1amour · 2 months ago

Text

「 ✦ F1 GRID — ANGST DRABBLES.

pairings include | max verstappen x assistant!reader, carlos sainz jr. x wolff!reader, charles leclerc x mexican!reader, lando norris x pr!manager!reader

authors note | if you have any requests for some drabbles send them my way! my inbox is always open <3

navigation | main masterlist (coming soon)

— MAX VERSTAPPEN ¹

unrequited love assistant!reader

Becoming an assistant to Max Verstappen was not your plan when you visited Monaco during winter break to celebrate completing your degree. It was a trip you’d been looking forward to all year long after all the long nights of studying and exam taking.

Bumping into Max and getting coffee with him to end up with a one in a lifetime job opportunity was not your plan. You had never imagined going on vacation and ending it with a job.

You also were not planning to fall in love with Max.

Spending two years loving him in the dark was the hardest time in your life. You kept those feelings because he was your boss and you were just his assistant.

But standing here now at the Dutch Grand Prix as Max takes second place you could see the disappointment in his eyes but also the exhaustion. You knew the pressure he has been putting on himself after not having won since June.

"I know it isn't first place but you did amazing out there give the circumstances of how shitty the car is. You made it work." You tell Max while you sit in the seat beside him on your jet.

A few of the drivers were going to join but Max needed space from everyone. You weren't sure why he asked you to stay, you could have given him space as well and booked a flight with everyone else.

A small part of you hoped maybe he needed you and nobody else.

"I just...I don't want to talk about that right now. I'm sorry." With a frown on his face, he traces circles on your thigh; a habit he had for awhile now when he felt upset or anxious.

It wasn't the right place or time to confess your feelings but would there ever be a right time? You figured this was your chance to say it before you fell into a deeper hole of keeping this in.

Maybe he will feel the same way. Maybe.

"Okay we won't talk about that...we can talk about something else? Something I have been wanting to tell you for awhile now."

You take a deep breath, "Okay we won't talk about that...we can talk about something else? Something I have been wanting to tell you for awhile now." Bracing yourself for the confession that is about to come.

Max knew just from the look in your eyes that what you wanted to say was something he had been trying to avoid. But now in the air with no where else to go he would have to hear you out.

"Please y/n don't. Don't say it." His pleas come out almost pathetically. He did not want to hear those three words come out of your mouth when he knows he won't say it back to you.

"I can't keep holding this in any longer than I have. Max, I love you--."

"You can't. No. Y/n please don-."

"I love you. I love you and I need you to hear that now I can't go another two years with you not knowing. I've tried to hide it, I've tried to push it away, but it's no use – I can't escape these feelings for you. From the moment I met you, there was something about you that just...captured me. Your smile, your laugh, your presence. It all took my breath away. I've tried to ignore this feeling, to push it down and forget about it, but it's always there, lurking in the back of my mind. I can't deny these feelings for you any longer."

Y/n's heart sinks into your stomach as the silence hangs heavily in the air after your confession. Max looks at you, and in the depth of his eyes, you see your fears confirmed. There is no glimmer of affection, no hint of reciprocated feelings. Just a cold, unspoken rejection.

You can sense that your words have not had the desired effect, and realization sets in: he does not feel the same.

Max breaks the silence, his voice soft and quiet, "I'm sorry. I don't feel the same way. I'm so sorry."

Feeling vulnerable and exposed at the moment she gives him a soft smile to conceal her tears, "t's okay. It was silly of me to think you would ever love me anyways. I just needed to say it before it consumed me more. I can move on now. I'm just going to do some work on my laptop back here." It was like a switch turned on inside you and you became cold.

Not letting the awkwardness of a now two hour flight ahead of you, you decided to bury yourself in work. Max was unaware of what you typed away on your computer was a letter of resignation something you sent right after separating ways at the airport.

You denied having a proper goodbye because you knew in the end you would have stayed. You love Max but you loved yourself enough to leave instead of hoping one day he would feel the same. Instead of trying everything you could do to get him to love you; you leave hoping you won't have to beg for your love to be reciprocated.

— CARLOS SAINZ JR. ⁵⁵

lovers to enemies wolff!reader

“Did you know?” Carlos questions you, entering the apartment slamming the door. His eyes filled with anger and a hint of sadness.

You smiled at him from the couch, “Hello to you too, grumpy. I don't know what you're talking about.” You say going back to your book.

“Y/n don't play dumb with me. I just got out of a meeting with the team, Lewis is taking my seat next year. You had to have known from your father. Why didn’t you tell me?” Carlos glares at you standing in front of you forcing to take your eyes off your book.

You sit him down next to you and continue, “Can you just try to remember that I’m his manager? We both signed nda's with Ferrari we couldn't tell anyone not even his family, Carlos please I really wanted to tell you but my job would be on the line i would have been fired and possibly sued if the news got out.” You grab his hands, begging him to look at you.

i couldn't tell you

“You…you’ve known all this time? And didn’t tell me?” His face flashes with hurt and you feel so much guilt being the reason he is feeling this way. You knew it was messed up not telling him but this was your job you had to be professional when it came to things like contracts. You hadn’t even told your Dad about it until Lewis was ready to confirm it to him,

“Lewis has been in talks with them for months but he and his agent handling it for that time because he knew how conflicting it would be for me knowing I would probably tell you. He didn’t tell me until a month ago when we had to go through his contract and what not. Baby, please I wanted to tell you but I couldn’t. But I promise all this will fix itself we have a plan!” You explain to him, the last sentence filled with hope and surprise for him but he’s too angry to see through that.

“Promise? You promises seem to have meant nothing as of now. You promised me a lot of things and have kept them but this one? Betraying me? You promised we would be truthful in our relationship turns out only I have been. I can't forgive this. I can’t forgive you.”

His next words hit you like a ton of bricks, “I’m done. Our relationship is done and I need you out of here by tonight. I’ll be back later tonight hopefully you’ll be gone by the time I am back.” He stands up grabbing his keys and you tug his hand back begging him to stay.

“Please please Carlos, I’m begging you you just listen to me. All this will make sense you just need to trust me, please? I love you and you love me—.”

“No. I don’t think I do anymore. Someone who loves me would have never done this to me. Have a great life.” He pushes your hand away and walks out not glancing back as you yell for him begging him to come back.

It took you a few hours to gather all your things taking a few breaks in between to stop yourself from crying but there was no use in that, if anyone saw your puffy read eyes they’d know immediately.

As you zip up your final suitcase you hear the door open and expecting to see Carlos coming into your bedroom you’re met with a blonde woman wrapped around him.

You clear your throat as they almost kiss in front of you and Carlos quickly turns to you not expecting you to still be here and his heart drops to his stomach, “What are you still doing here?” You scoff wiping your tears away, that’s all he had to say?

“Just finishing up. Charles said he will grab the rest of my bags tomorrow since I’m staying with him and Alexandra for now.” You tell him and grab your purse before taking the picture frame that was filled with collages of you and Carlos, taking it with you to the living room as Carlos follows after you.

You throw the picture frame into the trash can, “Why did you do that?” Carlos asks you.

You shrug pulling an envelope out of your purse, “Our relationship is done like you said. The decent thing you could have done is fucked someone at least 24 hours after we break up not three hours later. When you realize what you've lost you will fucking regret it all, Carlos. Have a good life.” You mimic his previous choose of words in your last sentence.

Shoving the envelope to his chest he watches you in confusion as to what it pertains, “Congrats.” You tell him walking out the door and out of his life not giving him a chance to ask anything.

It’s as if his heart felt you getting further and further away with every step his heart began to feel heavy. As he opens the envelope his heart stops seeing the words written in bold; CARLOS SAINZ JR. 2025 MERCEDES DRIVER CONTRACT & AGREEMENTS.

— CHARLES LECLERC ¹⁶

friends to lovers to strangers mexican!reader

FRIENDS.

Meeting Charles in 2019 at the Mexico City Grand Prix was one of your favorite moments you’ll ever have. Closing your world tour in your home country he and a few of the other drivers along with their girlfriends had gone to your closing night. You were a fan of the sport and more specifically a fan of the Ferrari driver.

Your team let you know he was out there which made you much more nervous but either way you killed it out there and made lots of eye contact with him. They go backstage per your request and you get along easily with everyone but it was Charles you connected with most.

Form then on you guys became an inseparable duo that the world shipped so much but you both always denied the dating rumors. Your friendship with Charles was purely platonic.

You both experienced each others best and worst moments personally but also career wise. Maybe that was one of the first things that made you both realize the platonic love you had might be a little more.

LOVERS.

You both had been in bed watching a movie one night when Charles finally made a move with a simple sweet kiss that turned to more later that night.

You were attached to each other even more now despite having busy schedules. You made it work and planned out your schedules to spend the most time you can together. It was perfect for the next three years and despite the small arguments you would have every now and then you guys always made up.

Charles was devoted to you. He would be exhausted from a race weekend but would get home excited to help you create new music. You’d be singing or on the guitar while he played the piano sharing ideas on what melody to use. He understood you so well. He knew every single thing about you even the smallest of details that you didn’t notice yourself.

You knew all his habits. The ones he had before and after racing. He’d go into a little mental bubble hours before a race trying his best to push himself to do his greatest. You knew he loved massages after a race so you’d always be waiting in his room to give him that. He adored the little notes you’d leave him in various spots where he could find them on different occasions while you are off touring.

Until one day, the loving touches and words of affirmation turned into bitter arguments and no loving touches at all.

“It’s over isn’t it?” You smiled at Charles as he holds onto you, he had been visiting for a few days during summer break but it was time to get back to work. You spent the days arguing a routine that you’ve both been getting used to now.

Questioning why he spent only a few days with you and spent most of the break with friends. He threw the argument back to why had you scheduled your tour dates around his break.

It had been the moment of realization for the two of you that you loved each other but you were no longer putting each other first. You didn’t act like lovers. You didn’t act like best friends. You acted more like strangers.

“I’m so sorry.” Charles apologizes, tears filling his eyes that match yours. You shake your head wiping his tears away and he mimics you, “I’m sorry. We both love each other but we stopped trying. We stopped taking care of each other…of our love.” You lean against his hands cupping your face.

This would be the last time you’d be in each others arms and you wanted to cherish it forever.

“I love you. I’ll always love you.” Charles chants, closing his eyes he says it repeatedly almost a if he were hoping to wake up from this nightmare.

“Te amo, Charles. Siempre.” Your lips meets his one last time savoring the moment for as long as you can until he is called over for his departing flight.

He walks away hoping maybe one day you could meet again and it would be a different story. Maybe your love story didn’t end here.

STRANGERS.

A year had passed and you’d been taking a much deserved break from singing. Enjoying life in Mexico exploring new spots and meeting new people. You made new friends but never forgot about the ones you made in the past.

The Mexico Grand Prix once again coming up this weekend and you had been invited by Red Bull Racing. An offer you didn’t decline wanting to support your fellow Mexican driver and friend Checo Perez but also to catch up with Max who you’d grown close to the last year.

Everyone in the paddock talked about your arrival and what was to be expected if you bumped into your former ex. You could care less what the media asked of you as you walked alongside Max and Kelly talking about your next album. As you walk your heart stops when you see Charles walking towards you with Carlos next to him eyeing the situation Kelly and Max doing the same with you.

But as you approach each other you simply stare straight ahead spying no attention to him and his teammate who give a quick wave to the couple next to you and continue walking past you.

No one else seemed to noticed your hand reaching for Charles as you walked by him, his hand reaching for yours as well. It felt like a force of habit. Maybe that’s why they reached for each other

But in the end they walked away as strangers.

Strangers with memories of each other.

— LANDO NORRIS ⁴

grumpy x sunshine pr!manager!reader

You weren’t sure why Lando had grown such a strong dislike from you since the moment you met. You were hired as his new PR manager for the 2022 season and you were the youngest member of the communications team but they didn’t underestimate you.

You proved yourself being Daniel Ricciardo’s PR manager for the 2022 season but after he left you were assigned to be Lando’s PR manager after his last one left the team.

Being in charge of Lando was…a mission.

It could have been easy if he didn’t treat you so terribly. He treated you as if you were a robot; pure work and no worry that his hurtful words affected you.

Despite the hurt he made you feel every day you spent together you still arrived to every race weekend with a smile. You played the part of the perfect PR manager despite the constant belittling of received from the McLaren driver.

But sooner or later that light would dim.

“She’s just aggravating. Always coming in with a smile and giving me advice on what I should do or say when I’m with the media.” Lando rants to Oscar as they sit in his drivers room waiting for interviews to begin.

“I mean…that’s technically her job.” Oscar defends you, he had grown close to you and your bubbly personality always lighting up a room. He wasn’t sure why Lando was so angry towards you.

Lando was fine with everyone else but you. He was a charming guy with a smile on his face but plenty did notice the scowl on his face that would cover his usual smile when he was around you.

He was cruel to you but for some fucked up reason you found yourself developing a crush on him. You weren’t sure why you liked him why every thought you had was about him. He was invading your mind and heart, even if he hated you.

You noticed the small things he enjoyed, like distressing with a good playlist after a race. He enjoyed finding new cameras to add to his collection. He wasn’t an avid drinker but did enjoy a vodka cran ever so often. He wouldn’t admit it but you could tell he was get homesick sometimes and wish his family were with him at every race.

So you made it your mission to FaceTime his family every weekend before and during a race. Whether he made it to the podium or not you’d hand your phone over to him so he can talk to his family. He had always assumed it was his family who asked you to do this gesture every race week but oh boy was he wrong.

You walk into the McLaren hospitality ready for the weekend with a plate of homemade cookies in your hand. You made sure to hand a cookie to everyone you said hello to until you arrived to the garage and saw Lando with his race engineer and Andrea beside them.

You approach them with a smile ready to offer them some cookies, “Hey guys, I made—.”

“Y/n can’t you see we’re busy right now? This is an actual job and we put time into it unlike yours you just tell me I need to smile and be fake, I got it. Let us be now.” Lando’s word spit out like venom intended to hurt you in every shape possible. His mind is telling him how fucked up that was but he was so stressed about his car that he didn’t realize it until it was too late and you had tears in your eyes.

“Right. Sorry.” You smile tearfully walking away quickly not having the chance to hear the two men next to Lando scolding him for treating you with such disrespect.

“Get that attitude fixed of yours against the girl, Lando. I’m not gonna deal with it any longer if you keep it up. She’s a great girl and has proven what a great job she does for this team and for you especially.”

Andrea’s words echo through his mind the entire race weekend and despite his cruel words towards you he noticed you still managed to put a smile on your face.

It was time to head out after scoring second place at the Chinese Grand Prix. Lando was looking around for you confused why you hadn’t been at the press conference and you had sent an intern instead.

He gets to his room hoping maybe you were in there and he was ready to apologize but found an empty room instead. A plate of cookies on his table and papers next to it, he approaches the table and looks at the small note on the plate of wrapped cookies, “asked your mom for her recipe since you said you missed her baking cookies for you. hope i do them justice <3”.

He felt guilt consume him realizing that your earlier gesture was made for him specifically and he had blown you off. His eyes look at the papers next to the plate and he sits on his chair in disbelief reading your letter of resignation papers. You quit on the spot and had already been long gone since the race began.

Good luck on the rest of your season, you’ll be a winner soon I’ll always believe in you.

He read the text over and over again that you had sent prior to leaving but he not seen it since he was racing. He spent the next week going back to the text and your note, you showed him so much kindness and all he ever was show you the opposite.

Arriving in Miami he didn’t realize how crucial your role was in guiding him with the media. The new PR manager wasn’t terrible but they weren’t like you. You still have him the liberty to be himself as he had the right to but this manager was useless.

The most unexpected part of this weekend was him finally winning his first ever Grand Prix in his career of being in Formula One. His heart beating with all the adrenaline running in his veins as he reaches his team celebrating with them.

But as he hugged everyone around him he looked around waiting for the one person he wanted to see and celebrate with; you.

It was all too late. He realized his feelings for you until you were gone and now here was begging to see you smiling face in the crowd.

Getting a small moment to himself he opened his phone and saw a text from you;

“Congrats. I knew this year would be yours. Keep on winning, future world champion.”

He didn’t deserve you not when his cruelty pushed you away and still somehow showed him the love he now wanted to give you.

#f1 amour works #charles leclerc x reader #lando norris x reader #max verstappen x reader #carlos sainz x reader #charles leclerc x mexican!reader #charles leclerc one shot #charles leclerc drabble #lando norris one shot #lando norris drabble #carlos sainz one shot #carlos sainz drabble #max verstappen one shot #max verstappen drabble #f1 one shot #f1 drabble #f1 x reader

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bunnys-kisses · 3 months ago

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blues, reds and pregnancies

max verstappen & charles leclerc

cw: smut/pwp, pregnant!reader, threesome, sub!charles, "dom"!reader, dom!max, breast play, body worship, oral sex (reader & max receives), threesome, max is monsieur and reader is madame, dom/sub play, praise kink, pregnancy kink, protected sex, filth(!!), 3.3k words

bunny says: *big shrug* i don't know! (comments and reblogs are always appreciated!)

max wasn't stupid. a keen eye like his made it hard for him to miss things. both on the track and off. he knew how charles stared at you. max thought it was a seething jealousy that charles had, that max had something he couldn't have.

while he brushed it off, almost smiling in a smugness, he noticed something changed once you got pregnant. you and max were beyond excited to have a child, max made sure to show various ways that he was thankful for giving him the chance to be a (good) father.

so max noticed when around the fifth month of your pregnancy, a sunny track day in italy, that charles was a lot more hands-y than usual. you didn't mind the attention on you, you knew people were just being nice. so charles' hand on your swollen middle was nothing out of the ordinary.

but max could see the almost nervousness on charles' face. especially when you beamed at him.

"yeah, he's been moving a bit recently." you beamed, "i can't believe i'm saying this, but i think he knows what i'm at the track. i wouldn't be surprised if he could hear the engines." you laughed.

charles' eyes were on your bump that could be outlined in the dress you wore. both hands on your belly as he listened with attention. you blabbered about all the updates with your son.

max should've known that charles had a soft spot for mother's, and that soft spot left him feeling a little hard. it would only fully click when after the monaco grand prix, and a party by a pool was in full effect.

max stayed with making sure his wife was taken care of. but he could see that charles' gaze lingered on you. the two piece swimsuit was comfortable, and not meant to turn heads. but max swore he saw charles adjust himself in his own swimsuit when he saw you bend over to hand max another drink before you sat down on the chair beside him.

to test the waters, max leaned forward to your warm cheek but with his eyes on charles. he placed his large hand on your belly and winked at the other driver. charles' eyes went wide before he turned away, probably to get another drink.

"what are you doing, schat?" you asked.

he pressed a kiss to your cheek and dodged the question as he responded, "your dutch is sounding better, mijn vrouw." then gave your swollen middle a rub.

"hey, charles. i need some advice." max said with his phone in his hand. they were about to get ready to practice in spain. he leaned over to charles when the other man looked at him.

"yeah?"

max showed his phone to charles, "do you think the red or the blue looks better?"

charles raised his eyebrows at the other man as he took the phone. he almost dropped it when he saw the first photo. it was you in front of the full length mirror in a red pair of underwear that went over the bump you were sprouting and a matching bra with a bow in the middle that was yellow.

the thing that took charles off guard was that the red of the garments were not a nice maroon or even bordering on a pinky colour. no it was red, ferrari red.

max reached over and swiped to the next picture. it was a similar set but except in the same dark blue colour of max's driving suit paired with a little red bow in the center of the bra. ferrari and red bull. the dutch driver seemed unfazed as he asked, "so which one, leclerc? i'm thinking she looks better in the blue."

charles looked at max and exhaled deeply, "are you trying to kill me?"

max feigned confusion as he responded, "i thought we were friends, charles." he shrugged and added, "you stare at her enough, i thought you'd know what she looked good in. i'm pretty sure if she sat in the stands, you'd crash just to get a good look at her. so which is it, red or blue?"

charles' jaw tensed and he looked back at the photo on max's phone, "red." he replied.

you sat there at the edge of the bed with your thighs pressed together. you looked at both of the men in front of you with your arms crossed.

"hello mrs. verstappen." charles said as he slowly took off his driving jacket, "you look.. good."

you raised your eyebrows and chuckled, "oh charlie." you said, "do you have a thing for mothers?" you hard to lighten the mood because both men were looking at you like hungry wolves.

charles looked away for a moment and rolled his shoulders, "i mean, you and max have given me a wonderful oppurtunity. i couldn't say no!"

you and max laughed, then you spoke as you leaned forward. you took his hand and pulled him a little forward as you leaned back a little again, then placed his hand on your stomach.

"i'm sure my husband went through all the rules?" you weren't going to throw yourself onto charles or let max control the entire situation, not that your husband would've done that. so there were rules, rules that all three parties tonight had the follow.

the driver nodded his head quickly, "yes, max went over it twice." he spread his hand further across your bump.

you tilted your head to the side and asked, "what is the number one rule?"

charles swallowed, "we never talk about this after tonight?"

you looked to your husband for a moment before you took charles' other hand and placed it on your swollen middle. you then asked, "rule two?"

charles leaned a little more forward, "use protection."

you nodded and smiled at him, "such a good boy." you looked at max as you reached up and combed your fingers through charles' hair, "where have you been hiding him?" and laughed.

charles swallowed, his face went pink. his hands planted on your belly, not applying any pressure as to not hurt you. he mumbled, "thank you, madame."

you took him by the face and looked him in the eyes. you were all smiles and laughter. you pulled him in for a soft kiss, when you parted you said, "and that's rule three. max is monsieur and i am madame, correct?"

he nodded, "oui, madame!"

max came up behind charles and started to get the ferrari branded t-shirt off his torso. he leaned in to the other driver, "you're going to treat my wife well tonight, charlie?"

charles thought his heart was going to beat out of his chest. he let max takes the shirt off of him and he was pulled into bed with you. his eyes went wide as he ended up beside you on the king sized hotel room.

you were still in the underwear and got yourself close to charles. you took him by the face and kissed him gently, your belly brushed against his abdomen as the two of you made out.

charles' didn't know what to do with his hands, but max's voice rang in his head, "just touch her." which gave him the courage to explore your body with his hands.

the bed shifted as max got behind you, his hands on your body too. you giggled at their touches between kisses. max pulled the underwear down under your belly, exposed your swell to him.

charles got a good sight of your swollen middle, free of clothes and swallowed as he pulled away from the kiss. his eyes stayed on you. max rested his chin on your shoulder, he looked at his fellow driver and had both hands on your belly.

"jealous?" max seemed almost cocky.

charles swallowed, "i feel like this is a trick question. you are very pretty, madame, but i am afraid your husband might kill me if i say too much."

max chuckled against your skin, "i'll allow it, leclerc. but don't think this is a daily thing. she is still my wife." his hands went to your breasts and groped them through the bra.

you felt hot between the two men. their hands trailed along your body until they began to grow impatient. max's lips were on your neck and charles' lips were on your own. your husband undid your bra and with a little held from you, he got it off your body.

the process for all three of you to get out of your clothes was a slow process but eventually the three of you were naked and charles got himself in between your legs.

your head was in your husband's lap with his cock up against your cheek. you were laid out on your back, your pregnancy bump on full display.

charles swallowed, "you're very pretty, madame."

if anyone caught the three of you in such a compromising position, the media would have a field day. two rivals and a wife in the middle. the sound you made when charles' dove his tongue between your lags was almost pornographic and made max's cock twitch against your face.

you kicked your legs out and charles held you by the hips as he feverishly lapped at your pussy. you shuddered and felt a skip in your heartbeat.

charles had thought frequently about your pussy. there was something about it that made his cock stir. he would never admit it to anyone (especially not max, he wasn't insane), but he had masturbated to the thought of fucking your sweet pussy. it was like a dirty little secret that he kept buried deep inside. but he guessed he wasn't so good at hiding it, considering that you and max figured it out.

he continued to lap at your sex and your hands went into his hair, you held on tightly then turned you head and started to kiss at max's cock. max enjoyed the sight in front of him, his longtime rival and friend alongside his wife.

it was a kind of debauchery that would never leave the bedroom. your moans were music to his ears paired with the sounds of charles between your legs. if max was a little braver he'd try to get his phone to take a photo, but rules were rules.

he tensed up a little bit as you continued to lick his cock from the odd angle. your tongue and lips on his length was always a nice surprise. his own hand was in your hair as he guided you up and down his cock.

the entire room grew hot as the sun set over the horizon, the late afternoon light glimmered through the large windows of the hotel room. two drivers and a driver's wife were tangled up in bed. charles between your legs, his cock heavy and leaky against the bed. and you between your husband's legs, playing with his cock.

you clutched onto charles' hair when you felt the warmth of climax pool in your gut. you tensed up and moaned, gripping onto his dark hair. you raised your hips a little to rub up against him further.

"shit, charles." you panted as you came on his tongue.

charles groaned against your cunt as continued to lap at you like a hungry animal. when you relaxed, he pulled his face again. the bottom half gleamed with your wetness and his pupils were dilated. not to mention

max chuckled and when charles' was resting on his heels, cock painfully erect, the dutchman grabbed him by the shoulders and pulled him into a searing kiss. charles' cock twitched at the feeling of max's lips against his.

your eyes went wide at the sight of it.

"my wife tastes good, does she not?" max asked when he pulled away, his grip still hard on charles' shoulder as if to steady the other man.

charles nodded and swallowed, "lucky man." then watched as max grabbed a condom from the box on the nightstand.

max reached down and held you face to look up at him. he looked down at you, "i think you should thank charles for his hard work."

you looked to the other driver and smirked, your head still abuzz, "thank you, charlie."

charles smiled, "of course, madame."

you and max watched charles put the condom on. he was painfully hard, the tip almost purple and achy. he was leaky with precum. max thought this was a perfect time to tease his fellow driver, "charles?"

the other man looked at him.

the dutch driver continued, "what do you like about my wife?" he ran his fingers through your hair as you once again kissed his cock, "i see how you look at her. you know she is not a piece of meat." he shook his head a little, "you could have almost any woman in the world, and you're here with me and my wife. why?"

charles leaned back a little and stroked his condom covered cock, the lube on it getting all over his palm. his cheeks were bright pink, bordering on red as he said, "i can't help but be a little jealous." he felt a little more embolden to speak, "she looks so good carrying your child. makes me wish it were mine." he swallowed and looked at max, "i've dreamt of this moment since the first moment you brought her to the paddock."

max looked down at you, "i told you, you'd make the impression." then looked back to charles, "i suggest you make that dream a reality before she gets impatient." then flashed a smile at the other driver.

charles took you by the thighs then kept one hand on you and the other on his cock as he examined your soaked pussy. he felt an excitement through his body as he inched his cock into your pussy. he could feel max's blue eyes on him as he sank all the way in.

the noise you made sent a thrill through him as he kept you by the thighs and started to rut against you. charles fucked you, while you orally pleasured max.

max kept his hands in your hair, charles' hands were on your hips and your fists were knotted in the white bed sheet. you could feel the pleasure course through your body.

the bed moved under your collective movements, the sounds of sex was heavy in the air as was the heat between three bodies. this was nothing short of a miracle that this even happened, that everything aligned perfectly.

"she's a pretty girl, isn't she, charles? you should be lucky i'm letting you have sex with her. you're a lucky man." max said as he continued to guide your head onto his cock while the other driver bullied his cock into you, "you fuck like an animal, leclerc. remember she is pregnant, be a little gentle."

charles licked his lips, "can't help it."

max reached across and grabbed the other man by the hair and looked him in the eyes. it was all fun and games until you got hurt. he raised his eyebrows at the other man. both of them were flushed in the cheeks and could feel the sweat on their bodies, "i'm not having my wife be in pain because of you, leclerc."

charles slowed down a little, "sorry... monsieur."

max found it endearing seeing charles like this. the rivalry between them ran deep, but to see the ferarri driver just come apart at the feeling of your pussy around his cock. it was something else. he pulled him in for a hot kiss as both men moved against you, sandwiching your pregnant body between them.

if max knew that he could make charles so submissive, he would've proposed this a long time ago.

you covered your face from the heat that grew on your cheeks. but max noticed when he stopped kissing charles. he looked down at you and peeled your hands away from your face.

"no need to hide, mijn liefje." he said with love in his voice. the strong dominance was slowly slipping the more you caved under pressure.

he kept your hands pinned to the his thighs as you whined. your lips went back to his cock. a pace was soon established. it was less of a carnal, quick fuck and more of a slow, hot sex.

you felt the curl in your gut of pleasure. you could feel the heat in your body as you gave and received pleasure. you were the first to finish. you came for a second time and kicked out your legs from the intensity of it all.

"oh mon dieu." charles panted as he felt the sweat trail down his back, he was trying to keep it together as to not hurt you. your body was an alluring siren in his mind. his cock twitched inside of your sweet pussy.

a fertile beauty, carrying the child of his rival. it was strange, but it left charles aching for more.

"she's just that good." max purred, seeing the expressions cross charles' face, his head clouded with lust as well. the entire environment felt hot and sensual.

"i'm gonna finish." charles choked out, as if looking for permission to do so.

max looked down at you, pleasure was marked on your expression. he relayed charles' request to you, "may he come?"

you nodded and swallowed, trying to regain yourself. your husband's cock painfully hard against your face. pre-cum oozed across your skin, making it tacky and shiny. you'd look like a whore if it weren't for the gleaming wedding ring that max had meticulously picked out.

"use your words." max cooed. he had let go of your wrists to pump his own cock that was still wet with your spit. the sight of you was erotic and filled him with a smugness and a lust.

you opened your eyes a little more and looked at charles. you said with as much steadiness as you could muster, "please.. cum.. now."

charles panted and replied, "oui, mon cheri."

max could've wrung the other driver's neck for breaking the rules, but the three of you were so lost in the pleasure and the heat of lust that it could slide... just this once.

with a hard thrust of his hips, charles' buried his cock into you and finished with a loud groan. he could feel the shudder of pleasure in his body. a heightened euphoria that left him panting wildly. he rambled, mixing between english and french, he could feel his heartbeat in his ears.

exhausted, you flipped yourself over as fast as a five month pregnant woman could and fully gave your husband the oral sex he deserved. charles watched your head bob up and down quickly.

"that's it." max purred before he sank his cock down your throat and finished quickly. the feeling was too much for him.

you took your mouth off your husband's cock and wiped the side of your mouth, "okay, okay. i'm done. mama's tired." then chuckled a little bit, exhausted.

both men weren't going to argue, even if the fucked-out mrs. verstappen was a sight to behold.

the three of you soon after laid in a tangled mess, you pressed against your husband while he was resting against the headboard and charles' face pressed against your back. his arms wrapped loosely around you.

max played with your hair as he asked charles, "and what do we say?" getting a slight glee out of the authoritative tone towards charles.

the other driver yawned, "merci beaucoup, monsieur et madame."

charles saw you and max again only a few weeks later at silverstone. it was rainy and a bit colder. max had put his jacket over your shoulders and kissed you on the cheek. charles had been having a hard time keeping it together since spain.

max pulled the hood of the jacket over your head to protect you from the light rain. he kissed you on the lips before you leaned up to him to whisper something in his ear. he smirked and whispered something back, his gaze was towards charles who was nearby.

later the dutch driver would ask, "hey charles. red or blue?" <3

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cheriladycl01 · 14 days ago

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Kinktober 31/10/2024 The Grid - Halloween Party

Plot: Halloween Party Couple Costumes

MAX VERSTAPPEN:

You both went to the party as the characters from Kill Bill, it was one of Max's favorite films and you were excited to dress up as the Bride. Originally you were going to go for the full latex outfit but because Max had a few parties in the same night you'd both be travelling between you had to do a bit of makeshift work.

"You look hot" he says looking over you as you unzip the bright yellow top you had on, just to show off a little more cleavage for him.

"Yeah?" you ask pulling the katana up and holding it in positions being goofy as he took some pictures of you.

"And i think dying your hair blonde ... good shout" he grins running his hands through your freshly dyed blonde locks just so you could pull of this Halloween costume without a wig.

LANDO NORRIS:

You wanted to be funny and go as Gru and Vector ... but no McLaren thought it was too 'silly' and wasn't a 'good image' for Lando as a now championship contender.

So you guys decided as you were only going to a small Quadrant Haloween party that you guys would go lowkey and just try and use as much stuff as you could from home.

Naturally you were both at home when he had the idea of both going as the game characters from Subway Surfers, out of all the games both you and Lando played you didn't expect to go as mobile game characters, something from Valorant or even Tarkov but no here you were with a red beanie, hitched up red underwear under low rise jeans and an empty aerosol can.

"Cant believe you convinced me into this" you shake your head, knowing all the girls there would be going as either really hot people or would be very funny like you'd intended ... but at least you were with Lando and you guys both couldn't escape the costume police you knew would be at the party.

"You love me babe now come on lets go jump some trains"

OSCAR PIASTRI:

When Oscar had met you when he first came to England you made of point of forcing him to binge your comfort show, Peaky Blinders with you which led to this years Halloween costume for the both of you.

While Oscar was the gentleman and got his outfit as show accurate as possible you took the hot slant on it despite having a shirt, waistcoat and jacket covering up the majority of your upper body leaving your legs to do all the hot girl work.

"We look good" Oscar smiled looking at you guys in the long full length mirror in your apartment as you guys were about to leave.

"You're right we do" you smile reaching up to kiss his cheek forgetting the bright red lipstick that was covering your lips.

"AH AH. Let them dry first" he says putting his finger on one showing the stain.

When you got to Logan's party you were met with such a different vibe. You and Oscar had decided to stay in America for Halloween which was a good choice as they were crazy for any kind of holiday celebration.

"Will anyone here know who we are?" you ask wondering if you're costume was too niche.

"Lets hope they don't, quick and easy conversations so we don't look rude and unimpressed" he kisses the side of you head, knowing how introverted you both are/

CARLOS SAINZ:

Of course you had to go as young Morticia and Gomez Addams. It was something you knew for a fact Carlos would look incredible in and you had the perfect features to pull of Morticia.

You guys were attending a Halloween Party that actually had a lot of the drivers at, it was in a club that had invited you all as a brand deal with F1 and you guys all didn't really have an excuse not to go.

You guys got an uber, which is a strange experience when you have a boyfriend who drives for a living.

So many of the other wags were there and a costume competition had been held which you and Carlos had ended up winning, you think Lando most defiantly forged the votes but you couldn't deny that you and Carlos looked like you both put the most amount off effort in.

CHARLES LECLERC:

Charles didn't ever really understand the hype for spooky season, enjoying other more family oriented holidays more such as Christmas or even birthdays.

But when you said that your sister was hosting a small party (that of course ended up being not so small at all) that she was dying for you to make an appearance at you had to go despite the late notice.

So there you guys were two days before ironing patches to blue and red tops you'd brought from the most accessible shops in Monaco and because you were bringing Charles and you wanted to match but with the lack of time options were thin.

So of course doing a really bad attempt at Sally and Lightening McQueen was the option Charles decided on and everyone at the party found you guys so funny especially once they realised who Charles was as a famous racing driver.

To say despite the 5 minute crafts outfit you guys put together you were everyone's choice of conversation both at the party and after.

YUKI TSUNODA:

Chef Linguine, absolutely not Chef Tsunoda and you as his Remi. It meant you got to dress up as a sexy mouse while Yuki could live his dreams of being a chef, dressing up in the whole outfit that you were surprised to see he just had in his closest already.

"You look like a cute mouse" he smiles looking over the white corset and sort grey skirt you'd opted for.

"Do i make a good Remi?" you ask sweetly and he nods.

"I still don't get why you didn't go as Collette" he sighs, thinking it would be odd for him to kiss you tonight when this was your outfit.

"Because canonically Collette is a better chef than Linguine because actually Linguine cannot cook without the rats help ... so I'm still not sure why i went as the rat. Maybe i should have gone as Chef Skinner" you groan now overthinking the whole costume.

FRANCO COLAPINTO:

Franco's nickname for you was 'princesa' so of course you going as one of the Disney Princesses made sense however when he said you guys should do Flynn Ryder and Rapunzel you almost lost your shit.

You were going to suggest the little mermaid as you'd love to see him in Prince Eric's soft pirate outfit but the Flynn outfit was just as exciting and you of course looked great in purple and could use your naturally blonde hair.

"Are you ready my Princesa?" he asks from the bottom of the stairs. You were expecting to turn round the corner with a soft graceful smile to see HIM awestruck at your costume.

Unfortunately god had other plans and it was you who was gobsmacked at your incredibly sexy boyfriend.

"Fuckkkkk Francoooo. Lets skip the party" you say running down the stairs to grip onto his arm.

FERNANDO ALONSO:

As an older couple on the grid who still loved a party and having fun you and Fernando decided old school was the best way forward. And for Fernando seeing you in sexy leather pants and a tight black top he was all but happy to keep pulling you away for sneaky kisses once you'd got to the club.

Nando was normally very ... sexually driven but this outfit of yours had turned him into some kind of beast and you were not complaining.

Especially when you guys got home that night.

ESTEBAN OCON:

Being the Marvel nerd that he was he'd asked if he could do Deadpool and you do Wolverine, which you did want to at first but when you couldn't find the right hairstyle and decided the outfit just didn't look good this year it fell through to be picked up another year.

Which is where his next idea came in, you'd both decided to go as Spiderman's he'd worn some grey joggers with him as the suit was pretty tight on him and he didn't want anything to come out in the media however you took the Spiderman look the whole way and for the whole night Estaban had to stay close to you warding off all the other guys who were watching you with what he explained to you as 'fuck me' eyes.

Taglist:

@littlebitchsposts @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @daemyratwst @lauralarsen @the-untamed-soul @thewulf @itsjustkhaos @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @summissss @gulphulp @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhhhh @georgeparisole @youcannotcancelquidditch @tallbrownhairsarcastic @ourteenagetragedy @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @eiraethh @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @dark-night-sky-99 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life @r0nnsblog @ilove-tswizzle @laneyspaulding19 @malynn @landosgirlxoxo @marie0v @yourbane @teamnovalak @nikfigueiredo @fionaschicken @0picels0 @tinydeskwriter @ironmaiden1313 @splaterparty0-0 @formula1mount

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amaranthineghost · 7 months ago

Note

can u do a charles leclerc x reader but the reader is like alexandra’s older sister pls pls pls i love my girl alex so much

HIS HEART THAT LIES WITH THE OTHER GIRL ( charles leclerc. )

charles leclerc x mleux!reader

charles and alexandra are good friends and feelings are starting to develop, but her older sister happened to be the one to catch his eye instead.

warnings: google translate french (please feel free to correct anything that's wrong)

authors note: the request was a little vague so I took some creative liberty, which honestly I enjoyed very much so THANK YOU FOR THE REQUEST <333 I love alexandra so much too, she's so gorgeous!!! also taking a break after this because of my thumb (I do have a verstappen imagine already written so that's going to be out soon enough)

BEING AN OLDER SISTER MEANS MAKING SACRIFICES for your younger siblings. she had felt throughout her life that maybe she had been a little too selfish. it felt at times like she was the baby of the two because she didn't act as her role model. moments growing up that she should've taken the fall for alex because that's what it means to be an older sister, but she didn't. she hadn't thought of her younger sister as much as she should've. not a day went by that she hadn't felt guilty for developing feelings for the guy alexandra liked, the guy her sister fell for first.

alexandra had known him for longer than she had, yet she would realize his attention was elsewhere. his frequent trips to the house they both thought were originally because he really liked alex and wanted their parents to like him.

but alexandra was oblivious to where his heart really lied.

stolen glances from across the room, eyes lingering longer than they ever should've to begin with because maybe that's why it started in the first place. his damn, green eyes half-lidded and fluttering lashes every time he blinked, and leaning his head on his hand just staring at her from the other side of the room. a glance over her shoulder told her all she needed to know as she saw the monegasque driver eyeing her up and down. all she could do was turn away and hope alexandra wouldn't notice.

and she wouldn't, for the moment. waving her hand in front of the brunette’s face, he blamed it as being lost in thoughts about strategies for the next race. they laughed, simply joking it off and talking about how he should take a rest from thinking about his career.

but his attention kept slipping back to her. though he tried not to get lost in her appearance, he would fail greatly every time he was even near her. he didn't even have to be in the same room for him to be dazing off, thinking about how she would look better by his side. but he also felt the guilt she had, maybe not the same because he wasn't alexandra's older sibling developing feelings for the guy she liked.

but he had felt guilty. he would be lying if he said that he didn't like the girl at first. she was pretty, for starters, her magnetic smile and radiant personality was what had originally drawn him in. he felt bad to say that wasn't the reason he decided to stay.

it was no doubt alex was a nice girl, in fact the nicest he had ever met in his life and the most welcoming family was right behind her. and that's when he first saw her. after hanging out various times around monaco, occasionally sneaking back to his place, they decided it was time they met her side of the family. only then did alex not realize the mistake she was about to make.

when the door opened, his eyes nearly bugged out of his head, alexandra had no clue at the time, but her sister did. she nervously laughed it off as she stepped aside so alex could pull charles inside with her. the day they met was the closest they ever were in proximity as he walked past her holding the door. the addicting perfume he wore wafted by as he was pulled along into the living room where their parents were.

throughout the whole evening, he struggled to keep his gaze away from her. alexandra wouldn't notice for a long time, and by a long time, she meant it was months.

months of stolen glances, slipping into the kitchen alone with her just to help with dishes because he was ‘such a gentleman,’ but really all he was doing was just an attempt and excuse to get close to her. grazing arms as they stood next to each other despite her assuring him it was fine. every time it occured, which was more often than it should've been, he would somehow get closer.

she didn't mind because over the course of those few months, she had grown quite fond of his gaze on her, or exchanging slight touches whenever they would pass dishes between one another. when he would've acted oblivious to how to clean them when he had first offered to help, sharing laughs that only grew louder every interaction. it had evolved from awkward explanations and silence, to small talk and then casual conversations in their native languages.

but one day, everything changed. a normal conversation turned into something different when he grabbed her wrist with his cold hands covered in water and suds from the dish soap.

his face was serious and she almost didn't hear him when he uttered the words, “je t’aime bien.” (I like you).

“charles.” she only managed his name as she froze with his words, her heart dropping in her chest. this couldn't, shouldn't, be happening. he should like alexandra, not her.

“je sais,” he started as he watched her mouth part, but no words fell from her lips, “mais je t’aime beaucoup.” (I know, but I like you a lot).

“mais ma sœur,” her other hand covered his that held her to him, pursing her lips before continuing, “Elle t’aime bien.” (but my sister, she likes you.)

he nods, muttering in french under his breath stuff that she couldn't hear. she shook her head, slipping her hands from his grasp, going back to the dishes in silence, as did he.

from the door frame, unknown to them, alexandra watched with her arms crossed. when she first saw them together, she was happy they were getting along because she didn't want animosity between the pair, and her older sister never liked the guys she dated before. but she realized far too late the way charles looked at her. the way he looked at her sister was different from the way he looked at her. a spark in his eyes and more creases when he smiled. it was genuine interest as he multitasked the dishes and listened to her talk like he could do it forever. she understood, her sister was like a magnet of different energy, one that alexandra possessed, but not on her sister’s level.

the sight, and hearing his words, in front of her confirmed what she had been suspicious of for weeks. she had finally followed his gaze to her, whether she was sat across the couch from the two, or if she had sauntered off to another room. whenever she would fold laundry with them in the room, how charles would always offer to help. she didn't notice a lot the first time, how her sister gazed between her and charles like she was going to notice his behavior. how bad his folding was, so much so that she had to take the clothes from his hands and show him how to properly do it, and how gentle he handled every item.

it wasn't like he wasn't sweet with alex, but she began to notice how much care he put into his actions that involved her. while it hurt at first because she was so deeply involved with him, she realized that maybe, just maybe, that her sister deserved him more than she did.

because from her view, her older sister gave up everything for her baby sister. even if she didn't recognize it herself, alexandra knew that over the years, she had done more for her and she didn't know how to return the favor at the time. she didn't know what could match the level she set herself.

but seeing the way they genuinely clicked, she knew that this one time, she would be the one to have to make a sacrifice. it didn't mean that her older sister was no longer mature, it just meant that she had a way to pay her back for all she had done. if that meant giving up the guy she had begun to love, she would do it. she would do it to see her sister happy for once because this was the first time in a while that she was. she wanted it to stay that way.

so when early morning came the next day, when charles had long walked out the door the previous night and sent a small smile they thought alex didn't notice, she sat down at the island. arms crossed on the cold granite counters as she sat on the cushioned barstool, watching her sister dance about the kitchen making breakfast.

she knew if she didn't speak up now, she would never, and their love story would've never had the potential to bloom.

“je sais.” (I know).

“que veux-tu dire?” (what do you mean?) her sister chuckled as she poured a glass of orange juice, looking at her with her brow raised as she turned back to the fridge.

“je sais que charles t’aime bien.” (I know charles likes you). she froze, the cold air leaking from the fridge as she stood with the orange juice jug in her hands before regaining composure and continuing on with her actions.

“je lui ai dit non, je sais que tu l'aimes bien,” (I told him no, I know you like him). she stood in front of alexandra, fearing that her sister had grown angry with her, but she knew she couldn't control charles’ feelings, and neither could her sister.

“tu aurais dû dire que tu l'aimais en retour,” (you should have said you liked him back). alexandra leaned closer, her hand raising in a gesture to her that she made a mistake by shying away, “j'irai bien.” (i will be fine).

she shook her head, the glass of orange juice on the counter clutched in her hand, “ce n'est pas juste pour toi.” (it's not fair to you).

“mais il te rend heureux,” (he makes you happy though). she sighed with a small smile, leaning back in the barstool, “dit lui.” (tell him).

“okay,” she threw her hands up in exasperation, reaching for her phone across the counter to text charles and tell him to come over, “il est en route.” (he's on his way).

“bien.” she smiled, standing up and leaving her in the kitchen.

her heart was racing. was she really going to do this? she had turned him down less than a day ago and now she was going to simply accept his abrupt confession. she rubbed her fingers to her temple and sighed, leaning down against the counter as she ate.

she didn't have to wait long to hear a familiar knock pattern he did to alert anyone that it was him.

she walked to the door slowly, like she could lose her balance if she went any quicker. cracking her knuckles with anxiety, she hesitantly opened the door to see his smiling face as if she didn't reject him.

say it. say it.

it repeated in her head as she took a deep breath while he stood confused. her face began to flush and he was wondering when he was going to be let in.

one last deep breath did the trick.

“je vous aime aussi,” (I like you too). she blurted out so quickly, he looked at her with a confused smile and a tilted head.

“qu'est-ce que c'était, chérie?” (what was that, darling?) his voice was teasing and she knew he knew what she said because now he was just messing with her.

“je vous aime aussi.”

“bien,” his hand wrapped around the back of her head, fingers tangled in her hand while their lips collided. her eyes widening in shock as her hands met the sides of his face, teetering on the edge of his hair.

when they finally parted, deep breaths being the only thing heard as they simply smiled giddily at each other like teenagers. he twirled her hair on his finger as he looked at her with such deep admiration, more than she would've ever thought. the sacrifice her younger sister made paid her back ten times over, and the only things she could do was either just hug her in appreciation, or set her up with one of charles’ friends.

—

taglist (found here): @slut4lrh @taylorslovesswifties13 @sbella13 @kaa212 @nhlfs @thearchieves

proofread by @foreveralbon <3

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lecsainz · 1 year ago

Note

Hii can you maybe write one about max falling in love with you but hes with kelly (maybe smut👀) not trying to be weird i swear😔

FOOLISH

parings: max verstappen + ricciardo!reader | charles leclerc + ricciardo!reader

summary: where max has feelings for you but he's with kelly, and when he finally acts on it, it's already too late.

an: I switched up your request a bit, but I can do another if you'd like. not writing smut at the moment because I've got a creative block for it, hope y'all understand.

type: angst ✶

masterlist

Max couldn't remember when he had fallen in love with you. He just knew it was wrong. After all, he had been with Kelly for years, and it was all kinds of wrong to constantly have someone else on his mind. But God, he couldn't tear his eyes away from you.

He had always been fond of Daniel's younger sister, but he couldn't decide whether to thank or curse the day when Daniel had come to him, grinning from ear to ear, to reveal that you would be the nutritionist for his team during the season. This meant that Max would see you every day, but in a different garage, with a different team, and, most painfully, with other drivers – the very thought made him sick to his stomach.

As the season went on, Max found himself craving every fleeting moment he could spend around you. He had a feeling it was inevitable, that his heart was already too far gone. But he couldn't bring himself to act on his feelings; he had his commitment to Kelly, and he was not the kind of man to betray his girlfriend, no matter how deep his feelings ran.

One evening, Max found himself wandering the paddock aimlessly, lost in thought about the impossible situation he had found himself in. He didn't realize he had ended up in the same lounge area as you until you looked up and gave him a warm smile.

"Max, right?" you said, and the sound of your voice sent shivers down his spine.

Max nodded, trying to hide his internal turmoil behind a smile. "Yeah, that's me. Y/N, isn't it?"

You nodded, and a friendly conversation began. Over time, Max couldn't help but be drawn to you, to the way you listened intently and laughed genuinely. It was so different from the way he felt around Kelly, with whom he had been together for a long time, but things had grown stagnant over the years.

Days turned into weeks, and Max's feelings for you only grew stronger. He couldn't control the way his heart skipped a beat when he saw your name pop up on his phone, or the rush of excitement when he knew he'd be able to chat with you between practices. The guilt gnawed at him, but he couldn't help but cherish those stolen moments.

As the season reached its midpoint, Max found himself confiding in Daniel, sharing his inner turmoil and revealing the truth about his feelings for you. The elder Ricciardo listened, offering support and advice, but ultimately respecting Max's decisions.

"I get it, mate," Daniel said, clapping Max on the back. "It's a messy situation, but you've got to figure out what's best for you."

Max nodded, his heart heavy with the weight of his feelings and the knowledge that he couldn't act on them.

One day, as the season drew closer to the end, Max sat in the quiet of his hotel room, looking at a photo of you on his phone. He couldn't help but smile as he remembered a particularly amusing conversation the two of you had shared earlier in the day. But the smile quickly faded as he thought about the reality of his situation.

He had a loving, committed girlfriend in Kelly, and he couldn't simply throw that away for something that might never be. It wasn't fair to her, and it wasn't fair to himself either. Max knew he had to make a decision, even if it tore him apart.

Max decided to take a walk to clear his head, wandering the quiet streets of the city where the race was taking place. He replayed his conversations with you in his mind and thought about the love he had for Kelly. It was a painful and agonizing decision, but he knew what he had to do.

Later that night, Max sat down with Kelly in their hotel room. The conversation was filled with tears and broken hearts, but he knew he had to be honest with her. He explained his feelings for you and the unbearable guilt he felt for allowing those feelings to grow.

Kelly was devastated, but she understood. She had felt the distance between them and knew that something was amiss. They both agreed that it was best to end their relationship, even though it was painful for both of them.

Max knew that he couldn't immediately pursue a relationship with you, and he wasn't even sure if you felt the same way about him. But he needed to be honest with himself and find his own path, even if it meant enduring a period of heartache.

In the aftermath of his breakup with Kelly, Max decided to give himself some time to heal and find his own path. He knew he couldn't immediately pursue a relationship with you, and he wasn't sure if you felt the same way about him. But he also knew that he couldn't keep his feelings buried forever.

As the days turned into weeks, Max focused on his career, throwing himself into his racing with even more determination. The tracks became his sanctuary, the roar of the engines helping to drown out the ache in his heart.

However, the memory of you still lingered in his thoughts, refusing to fade. The way your eyes lit up when you talked about your passion for motorsports, your laughter, and the warmth in your voice—all of it was etched into his memory.

One day, during a race weekend in a picturesque European city, Max decided that he couldn't keep his feelings bottled up any longer. He needed to tell you how he felt. The only question was how and when.

That night, he gathered the courage to call you. Your voice was as welcoming as ever, and as the conversation flowed, Max felt his heart pounding in his chest. He had intended to tell you his feelings, to admit the truth about his emotions, but he couldn't bring himself to say the words.

"Y/N," he began, hesitating as he sought the right words. "I've been thinking a lot lately. About us."

There was a pause on the other end of the line, and Max could hear the curiosity in your voice. "What about us, Max?"

He took a deep breath and finally said, "I think there's something I need to tell you. Something I should have said a long time ago."

Just as he was about to confess his feelings, you interrupted. "Max, there's something I need to tell you too."

Max's heart sank, but he couldn't stop now. He had to be honest. "Okay, you first."

There was a heavy sigh on your end, and you spoke slowly. "I'm with Charles now, Max. We've been dating for a while, and things have gotten quite serious between us."

Max's world seemed to crumble around him as he processed your words. It was a bitter twist of fate. He had waited too long to confess his feelings, and now you had moved on with someone else. He tried to hide the pain in his voice as he responded, "I see. I'm happy for you, Y/N. Charles is a great guy."

You thanked him for his understanding, but Max couldn't bring himself to say anything more. The conversation felt like a blur, and he hung up the phone, feeling a sense of loss he hadn't anticipated.

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vivwritesfics · 1 year ago

Text

Better Than He Ever Was - MV1

This gif makes me feral - I am on my KNEES

Y/N is pregnant and Max is sweating

Related works: Mini Me Prodigy

When Y/N Verstappen found out she was pregnant with Fabian, Max was terrified. He was utterly, utterly terrified.

He played it well, cheering and happy smiles when Y/N showed him the pregnancy test. To everybody on the outside, he was the overjoyed father to be, talking about Y/N and their baby on the way any chance he got.

There were very few people who saw beneath the facade Max was putting on. The first was Christian Horner, who himself was like a father to Max. The next was Charles Leclerc, who was way too excited at rhe prospect of being an uncle that he forgot he wouldn't actually be related to the baby.

Both said the same thing: that Max should talk to Y/N about it.

But where was he to begin? How did he tell her, after seeing how happy she was, that he wasn't ready to have a baby.

When she started showing? Oh boy.

It was never something Y/N wanted to keep hidden. As soon as she had all the tests she had taken come back positive, she posted something to all of her social media's. Max did, too, playing his part well.

Y/N didn't wear baggy clothes to hide her bump; she showed it off with pride. At every single grand prix she'd be standing beside her husband, hand over her stomach and the press took pictures of them.

Most husbands, when their wife's baby bump began showing, would be over the moon. But when Y/N started showing, it just made Max more fearful.

Y/Ns very first proper indication of the was when they were discussing baby names.

Any moment she got, Y/N was writing down potential names. She had at least twenty of each.

"How do you like Felix?" Y/N asked him as they watched a movie together. Max had been sim racing all day; this was the first proper moment she'd had to spend with him. "Or Daniel?"

"Daniel can be the middle name if it's a boy," Max said as he fed her a Malteaser.

Y/N moved over to her list of girls names. "If it's a girl, I liked Mila. Thought Mila Verstappen had a really nice ring to it."

Max just hummed.

It was two weeks after that Y/N finally sat him down.

"What's going on with you?" She asked, her hand resting on her bump. That morning her snack of choice had been stroopwafels, and she'd accidentally finished the entire box (but who could blame her? They're addictive).

"What do you mean?" Asked Max as he lifted the box to see what he was inside. Nothing, empty. He made a mental note to buy more.

A terrible, horrible feeling settled in Y/Ns stomach. "Please, Maxie," she placed her hand over his, rubbing her thumb over his wrist. "Tell me what's going on. I'm begging you!"

Max let out a huff. He hated himself. "I love you," he said, which definitely wasn't concerning. "I love you so much and I know how excited you are to have our baby, but I don't know if I can do it."

Her heart was beating so loud she was sure Max could hear it. "Wha-what are you trying to say?"

"I'm trying to say that I'm so fucking scared, Y/N. I'm terrified of being a dad. What if I raise our child like my dad raised me and the kid ends up like me? I'd never be able to forgive myself if that happened."

Oh. This wasn't a dire as Y/N thought it was. This was something she could deal with. "Come here," she said softly and tried to pull his chair closer. Max shuffled over. He let Y/N wrap her arms around him and rested her head on his shoulder. "Do you remember last summer, when we went on holiday with my sister and her kids? Do you remember how they loved you so much that they wouldn't leave you alone?"

They'd rented out a villa. Max and Y/N had just come back from their honeymoon when Y/N's sister had invited them away.

As soon as they had their things unpacked, the kids grabbed their uncle Max's hands and dragged him into the pool. "Let's race!" The oldest shouted. Max was more than happy to oblige. He raced them to the other side of the pool and back, letting them win, of course.

When Y/N and his sister started on lunch, Max was blowing up the inflatable pool toys and looking after the baby. He was a natural with all three of them. Y/N watched them out of the window as she buttered the bread and passed it to her sister. That was when she realised how wonderful of a father Max was going to be. That was when she realised she wanted to have his children.

By the end of the holiday, the children were obsessed with him. According to Y/N's sister they didn't stop talking about him until at least two weeks after the holiday.

Max nodded his head. At first he'd been secretly reluctant to entertain the kids. But he loved it, and he actually found it fun. Of course, it wouldn't be the same when it was his own child.

"You're going to be an amazing father, Max. You're so kind and caring and kids love you. Plus, you're aware of how shitty your dad was to you, you know what you have to differently," she said, running her fingers through his hair. "I'll be there with you every step of the way," Y/N whispered and kissed the top of her head.

Max was still terrified, but he was trying not to be. But Y/N saw him change. He really did become that cheering and happy father he was pretending to be at the start.

Aside from Formula One, Max's life became getting Y/N whatever she and the baby were craving. Stroopwafels, mostly.

They discussed names more when Max became more comfortable. He was a big fan of Nora. Nora Sophie Verstappen. It had a very nice ring to it, Max thought. Little baby Nora.

They'd struggled to settle on a name for a boy. After Max had suggested his mothers name for the baby's middle name, Y/N was afraid Jos' name was going to be thrown into the mix. Not after all of Max's fears and anxiety. They'd decided Hugo, Hugo Verstappen was to be his name.

If it was up to Y/N, Jos wouldn't be in the child's life. But, of course, it wasn't just up to her. It was a decision she and Max had to make together.

When they found out they were having a little boy, Y/N and Max were over the moon. They decorated the nursery, painting the walls to be like a Formula One track. The bottom third was all grass, the middle was the track and the rest was blue skies with fluffy clouds.

The track went all the way around the room, with little race cars painted onto the track. There was a little Red Bull with a 33 on it, and a little Ferrari with a 16. It was a friend who painted it for them, going into intricate details for the cars and garages.

And then Y/N went into labour.

All of those fears Max had managed to get past came flooding back. His wife was about to give birth to his little boy.

Max wasn't much help through the delivery. Actually, through most of it he wasn't allowed in the delivery room, since he was panicking too much.

He wasn't a Hugo. That was what Y/N and Max decided the moment he was born. He was a Fabian. Fabian Hugo Verstappen. He was the most gorgeous little boy in the world. That was all Max could think as he stared at him, cradles in his wife's arms.

His son. His boy.

"Welcome to the world, Fabian Hugo Verstappen."

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everythingne · 11 months ago

Text

christmas in monaco - cl16 [2]

Trying to even bring up boys with Max ends up in a fight. You and Charles have a heart-to-heart. Daniel and Carlos help you devise a plan.

warnings/notes: comparing Max to Jos during the fight, mentions of shit parents, one (1) jab at Kelly, the chapter is serious and then Daniel shows up and that goes to shit, the last bit of set up before i go full scooby-do search party through the doors on you guys

verstappen!reader x charles leclerc, secret dating/brothers best friend

prev | next

You know you're in for it when you open the door to Max's apartment, groceries tucked lazily in one arm and coffees in the other and he's staring at you.

"What?" You ask as if you have no idea what he wants. You can see Penelope laying on the floor, coloring while some cartoon you've never heard of plays, and thus immediately switch to Dutch.

"[Why do you look like you're mad at me?]" You say, walking over to where he sits on the kitchen island, plopping down the groceries, and handing him the coffee you'd bought. Kelly's off doing god knows what today, leaving the two of you to watch Penelope before you return to your apartment next door.

"[Who is he?]" Max asks, taking the coffee with a nod of a thank you as he helps you organize the groceries. You knew posting that picture would cause this conversation, you and Charles had spoken about easing Max into the fact you were dating at all, and maybe it wasn't the best idea. Max had been fiercely protective over you since you were kids, you don't know why you assumed he'd stop now that you were adults.

"[I haven't told anyone yet. We're keeping it hush.] Okay?" You speak softly, setting down some things for dinner. Simple pasta, since Penelope had picked that over pizza--as long as you made her meatballs as well. You pluck the ingredients from the mess of other groceries, making sure you have everything as Max leans back in his seat.

"[Oh, so I'm just anyone now?]" Max lifts his hands in agitation, the same accusatory tone of your father's ringing in Max's voice. You swallow your vitriol, crossing your arms taught over Charles' hoodie you wear as you cross the room, then you tug up the red sleeves of the hoodie as you set down the ingredients for dinner by the stove.

"[Max, come on.]" You urge, hoping he'll drop it. But he's as stubborn as your father and as impatient as him too.

"[No, I feel like I have a right to be upset over this, how long have you two been seeing each other?]" His pointed glare at you as you whisk out a pan from under the stove makes your skin burn hot. You pause, mouth opening and closing as you slowly slide the pot onto the stove. If you say two years, does that link you to Charles too quickly? But if you lie, will Max see right through you? And you can't dodge the question, not here, not now.

"A couple months." You say. Yeah, twenty-four of them, then you scoff when Max makes a face, "[Stop acting like a child.]"

"[And how come Danny knows?]"

"[He found out on accident, and honestly I remember now why I didn't wanna tell you.]" You huff, filling the pot with water and clicking the burner on. You tie your hair up lazily, looking over at Max as your crack-open fridge next to the stove and then turn to grab the ingredients to make the sauce, "[you're treating me like a toddler.]"

"[You're my baby sister, I feel like I am kinda... obligated, to be concerned?]" Max's voice is sharp as you start to whip up the same sauce you've been making since you were fourteen. Max stands up and crosses the room to stand next to you, "[And I'm not treating you like a toddler. It's my job to protect you as your brother.]"

"[I'm a year younger than you! I'm not a baby, you just don't trust me, which is fucking stupid because I'm not the one dating a woman almost a decade older than me!]" You huff as you turn to Max, who tries to stammer some defense to his situation but you don't give him a chance to, "[and I don't know why you think I can't date drivers, by the way, you trust those guys with your life but not my heart?]"

"[Those guys are cheaters, I don't want you hurt.]" Max runs a hand through his hair, watching as you continue making the sauce. You can tell, just by his eyes, that he's thinking of the times you used to make him pasta after races growing up. You try to not think about the past.

"Who?" You ask, looking at the sauce and burning the red color into your retinas, mentally praying that he's not catching onto you.

"Lando, probably." Max huffs, stepping back, "Charles."

"Charles?" You hum, hating that you come to his defense immediately and not Lando's, "[The guy who just announced the girl he's been dating for two years?]"

"[He's done some interesting things.]" Max says in his defense and you can't help but laugh. You knew before Charles met you he had been a bit of a womanizer, or 'man-whore' as your friends so kindly said. But with you, it was like Charles was a brand new person.

"[You're so overdramatic.]" You deadpan, turning to add the noodles to the sauce and Max scoffs.

"[I'm trying to protect you so you don't end up with someone like Dad!]"

"[You haven't even met my boyfriend yet and you're assuming the worst! Why are you being such a dick, Max!?]" You slam the spoon down and then flinch, remembering Penelope is in the other room the second you do it. It takes a few seconds, and then her little head peeks around the doorway.

"Are you fighting?" She asks sweetly and you shake your head.

"No, Penny, it's fine." You try to smile at her, but Max seems to have taken another level of offense to everything.

"Y/n. [Go fuck off to your mystery boy, why don't you?]" Max takes the spoon off the counter. His cold shoulder isn't something new, but it's the way he says it, sounding like the harsh whispers your father would pass at you in public, makes you swallow hard. You walk across the room, grabbing your purse and car keys off the table before kneeling down in front of Penelope and kissing her hairline.

"I'll see you tomorrow, okay honey? Sorry if I scared you when I slammed the spoon down." You squeeze her in a tight hug, closing your eyes as you feel Max's eyes burn into the back of your head.

"Okay, Tante Y/n." She smiles, throwing her tiny arms around you, "And it's okay, I thought you dropped it."

You step back, kissing her hairline again, before getting up and leaving the apartment in a breeze, coffee forgotten. Your hands fumble with your phone, finding Charles' contact and sending him a quick message as you try and calm your anger.

You have a spare key, and as you jiggle your phone and keys in your hands to find it, the door swings open and two arms wrap around you. Laughing softly, you bury your face into the fabric of Charles' sweater and sigh heavily. He's warm, smelling of the usual cedar cologne you'd bought for him a while back. He also smells weakly like his hair products and if you try to search for it, your perfume lingers on his neck.

"Hi, amour." You murmur into the fabric and he bends at the knee enough to scoop you up to carry you the few inches inside before popping you back on your feet as he uses one hand to push the door shut.

"Hi." He says back, stepping back and squishing your cheeks in his hands and peppers soft kisses to your hairline, "Sorry about Max."

"It's fine. He's just being overprotective again." You kick off your shoes and follow Charles to the living room, flopping down on his couch and burying your head in your hands.

"You know if..." Charles sighs, hand coming through his hair and then pausing as he scratches at his neck, "If it's gonna be easier for you, I can try and talk to him?"

"No... I should tell him, he's my brother. I just don't think now is a good time?" You say as Charles pops down next to you on the couch and you shift so you can lay his head in your lap as you kick your feet onto the coffee table to rest, "he just seems so... agitated."

"Because you're dating?"

"He's afraid I'm gonna end up with someone like Dad. That's the problem. He doesn't trust anyone with me and gives them no chances. He thought Jolie was a drug dealer for like, six months!"

"She's a teacher?" Charles turns to you and you can't help but just laugh because that's Max.

"I know!" You huff.

Silence lulls for a while, and then Charles sits up and grabs you to unceremoniously pull you against his chest as he lays you both down on the couch. your face squishes against his hands as he peppers soft kisses to your hairline, the apples of your cheeks, and your nose, before pressing one long kiss to your lips. Pulling back just enough to murmur,

"I wanna spend Christmas with you, properly, this year." He says against your lips, your eyes fluttering before he presses his thumb to your pulse to draw you back enough to make eye contact, "I want to be able to post you, to talk about you with everyone because you're so fucking amazing, and I wanna meet your siblings and your mom and go on holidays with you guys and have our moms meet because Maman and Arthur both adore you and..."

Charles drawls off for a moment, hands coming up to cup your face as he thumbs along the warm, delicate skin of your cheeks, "I want, one day, to be able to get down on one knee and give you my whole heart."

Your pulse rams under his touch, cheeks dusted red, eyes wide but happily smiling as he leans in to lock in a long kiss, then he peppers some pecks on the corners of your mouth.

"The problem is, I can't do anything without Max knowing about us. Two years of us dating without telling him is already bad enough and he's been in my life since we were kids--even if we absolutely hated each other at first." Charles sighs, pressing a final quick kiss to your lips before letting you rest your head on his chest, "I feel terrible he doesn't know."

"But you know what he said." You sigh, closing your eyes against the warm fabric of his sweater--the grey one you'd bought for him a while back.

"I know, but we're either going to tell Max, or Max will find out." Charles sighs, "I prefer the first if I'm honest."

Even as you nod in agreement, you feel sick. The bubble of you and Charles had been safe for so long, that you weren't sure if you wanted to let Max in. But he was your brother, a year and fifteen days older, and you had told him everything up to this point. You'd be lying if you said you didn't also feel like shit for keeping Max out of the loop, but yet you feel like you have to.

"How'd Daniel find out?" Charles asks after a moment and he looks at you with those big eyes that make your heart thrum under your skin, love, and adoration seep from him and you don't understand at that moment how he could've ever been a womanizer when he looks at you like you hung the moon and stars just for him.

And then a small smirk peeks across his lips, "Because I know how Carlos did--"

"That one was your fault, Leclerc." You poke his chest, "Not locking the driver's room door was stupid."

"It was! But we're lucky it was Carlos."

"We're lucky we were only kissing."

"[We could've done more.]" He teases, making sure to really ramp up his accent as he speaks French so it's a bit harder for you to follow along, but you get the gist and whack his chest.

"Daniel saw me leaving, he was in the area doing media stuff." You explain, "I guess he saw me leaving."

"Oh, I thought it was because he moved in downstairs last week." Charles hums and you snap your eyes open and exclaim--

"What?!"

"Mhm. And Carlos lives in this building too." Charles looks over at you from where his eyes had been burning a hole in the ceiling, "Mon chéri, a lot of the drivers live in Monaco."

"I'm gonna lose it." You grumble, then pause, sitting up so you're hovering over Charles, one of his hands slides to support your waist immediately so you don't slide off.

"Carlos and Danny know." You say.

"Mhm."

"And... Carlos is your best friend--"

"--Arguably--"

"--and Danny is arguably Max's best friend, behind you."

"Uh-huh."

"...What if we ask them for help?"

"Absolutely not am I asking those two," Charles says and you huff.

"Come on! We clearly can't do it ourselves!" You exclaim, bouncing yourself on him with your arms, making him grunt as your body weight hits him.

"Daniel will tell us to do some sort of skit and Carlos will say for us to just say it!" Charles grips your waist and pulls you closer, "I don't need their shit advice."

"Maybe we need their guidance, and I promise it won't be bad! I promise! We can invite them over, have some wine and dinner, and voice our concerns--maybe they know something about Max we don't! Maybe they'll know he won't be mad or something."

"Y/n." He sighs, tilting his head back and closing his eyes.

"Charles!" You whine, "Look, if they give us shit advice, we kick them out and go back to the drawing board."

"Fine. But I'm holding you to this."

"I'm going to kick Danny out in about five seconds." You hiss to Charles and he laughs.

"Dude!" Danny shouts from where he sits on the floor, "I'm just saying, Max likes Charles. We all see it!"

"Believe me." Carlos hums into his wine, "There's a reason that... what is it... Lestappen shit is so popular. He's not gonna be mad its Charles. If it was like... me? Probably. Charles and Daniel are probably the only two drives you could date."

"And Yuki." Charles hums, "I don't think Yuki could do wrong."

"He might stab someone with the chef's knives he got for Secret Santa." Daniel points out and you snort.

"But you seriously have nothing to worry about." Carlos nods, "Honestly, you both are so stressed about it, I don't think either of you can think clearly."

You huff, "I feel like I can be stressed though. Max will either be fine with it or hate me forever."

"No, not forever, étoile." Charles hums, pressing a kiss to the side of your head as he draws you close.

"I don't think Max can physically hate you. I think he'd explode." Daniel hums, "Remember when you were sick and he thought you were ignoring him but you just literally couldn't hear out of one ear and he almost had a crisis?"

"You remember that?" You blink at Daniel. That had been only shortly after you'd met Daniel, the first race of that season. You were so delirious you couldn't remember most of the weekend, but you remember Christian and Daniel holding that over Max's head for weeks after.

"I do because he almost lost his mind for like four hours thinking you were mad at him and ignoring him. And then you rolled over and woke up from your nap." Daniel finishes the unceremonious story and Charles and Carlos burst into high-pitched laughter.

"He didn't think to like, shake her shoulder?" Carlos asks between laughter, finishing off his wine and grabbing a bottle from the little makeshift bowl cooler you put on the floor. He pours himself another glass and then tops everyone else off before putting the bottle back.

"He knew she was sick, and Y/n specifically told him not to touch her or go near her while she was sick." Daniel explains, thanking Carlos before taking a sip of the wine, "It was ridiculous. And then he made her promise that she wasn't actually mad."

"It was pretty funny." You grin and Carlos nods.

"So then Daniel is right, Max can't stand you being angry at him. So he can't be angry with you. If he is, he's a hypocrite, and fuck him, obviously." Carlos raises his glass in mock toast as sarcasm bleeds through his sentence halfway through, "But I can't say he won't be mad. He might be furious when he finds out, you have explained how protective Max can be, but I think he'll feel better knowing it's Charles."

"Charles is like his best friend," Daniel hums, "if you're dating someone he trusts I'm sure he'll feel better about it."

"Didn't we just make this point?" Carlos turns to Daniel who nods.

"Yeah, but it's a good one, so make it again."

"Max trusts Charles so it's fine," Carlos says and you laugh, waving your hands.

"Okay, so how the fuck do we do this?"

The plan is simple but effective. And it takes a few words to describe; be exactly the same, but a bit less secretive.

And the best way to start that is via social media. Once again.

y/nverstappen made a new post! ↴

liked by carlossainz, charlesleclerc, maxverstappen, and 412k others..

y/nverstappen: he called me his star <3

joliejolie: CYOOTIE PATOOTIE WHHAAAT

user1: caption??? GUYS?? CAPTION??

maxverstappen: i still don't know who

charlesleclerc: thanks for using all my film

charlesleclerc made a new post! ↴

liked by ynverstappen, danielricciardo, landonorris, and 612k others...

charlesleclerc: never getting rid of this camera.

user2: get me someone who will do this for me.

danielricciardo: DUDE THERE ARE KIDS HERE.

⤷ landonorris: im covering oscar and logans eyes

⤷ logansargeant: yeah ok.

⤷ charlesleclerc: ill get worse

⤷ oscarpiastri: pls no

⤷ carlossainz: ill buy u wine if you do

⤷ danielricciardo: DONT ENCOURAGE THAT WE DONT NEED A FUCKING HOMICIDE ON OUR HANDS??? CARLOS???

⤷ ynverstappen: why is DANIEL on damage control??

user1: why is this the sweetest thing ever?

ynverstappen.jpg: make a jpg coward

⤷ charlesleclerc.jpg: who says i dont have one.

⤷ landonorris.jpg: its just priv.

⤷ danielricciardo: unpriv coward

⤷ charlesleclerc: ok ?

⤷ ynverstappen.jpg: YEAAA SECRET CHARLES PHOTOS!!

charlesleclerc.jpg made a new post! ↴

charlesleclerc.jpg: in her own world.

arthurleclerc: vomiting. put clothes on.

y/nverstappen: TWO shirtless photos. BRO.

⤷ charlesleclerc: oops.

maxverstappen: so she takes after you with not wearing a shirt?

⤷ charlesleclerc: low blow

⤷ ynverstappen: accurate blow tbh

landonorris: where is ferrari's pr manager.

⤷ carlossainz: no one can help her.

ynverstappen.jpg made a new post! ↴

y/nverstappen.jpg: some fuckin gems in my camera roll recently

charlesleclerc: omg finally a feature

danielricciardo: WHEN WAS THAT TAKEN I DO NOT RECALL

⤷ carlossainz: shit talk night w her and charles

⤷ danielricciardo: after the advice?

⤷ ynverstappen.jpg: yes and u still owe me a new shirt >:(

maxverstappen: can you ever post a nice photo of me on here?

⤷ y/nverstappen: nope <3!

charlesleclerc: the banana is so old why now

⤷ ynverstappen.jpg: comedy

And by god, it starts working.

You're walking with Charles, hands intertwined as you wiggle through the tiny stalls in the small market that's popped up for the holidays. You both find a small corner to hide, stealing a chaste kiss and then you pop a chocolate strawberry in his mouth.

"Oh, damn." He hums, "You are right, these are amazing."

"I told you!" You grin, peeking behind your shoulder to see if anyone is watching. You swear you make eye contact with Max, but the longer you look the less the guy looks like Max so you turn back around.

"You good?" Charles rests a hand on your waist and you nod, taking a strawberry into your mouth and sighing.

"Mhm. Just hate hiding." You lean into his touch, letting him wrap a firm arm around your waist as he peppers a few kisses to your hairline.

"Hey, think about it this way." Charles says, "Soon we won't have to."

As you step back and agree, Daniel pops up next to you with big wide eyes--and not the usual excited ones you're used to seeing.

"Hey, Max, on your six." He pokes your shoulder and you make a face, before Daniel waves his arms around in some sort of odd gesture and hisses out to you, "Clock direction!"

"Oh-!" You whip around as Charles' hand moves off your waist and walking towards you is none other than your brother. Offering a soft smile and wave.

"Hey! Didn't think you'd be here!" You call and he pokes your arm, crossing his arms over his chest as you, Charles, and Daniel kinda scramble to make it look like nothing was going on.

"Kelly wanted to grab some flowers for the kitchen," Max hums. The two of you hadn't really apologized for anything said during the argument. In your family, arguments were never really apologized for, you kinda of just moved on from everything. So even if there was still a bit of an awkward twinge, nothing was said.

"Oh! Somehow Charles and Daniel haven't had the strawberries so I brought them here to try them." You smile, and someone's hand comes to your jaw. You blink as Charles uses one of the napkins to poke your cheek.

"You got chocolate on your face, somehow." He murmurs and you laugh, grabbing his wrist and taking the napkin into your own hands.

"Thank you, Charlie." You blot where he says the chocolate is and you notice Max giving you a weird look. Looking over at your brother, you go to say something before Daniel pulls Max away to look at something, mouthing to you both,

"Be more discreet, maybe?"

And you can't help the giggles that leave your mouth as you lean into Charles and he wraps an arm around you, laughing out apologies.

Yeah, Max was gonna catch on.

and now you and Charles had to get real good at lying and dodging watchful eyes. Monaco was a small little country, and now that it would be filled with more people who knew you, it was about to become a real challenge to see if you could make it through the holidays without anyone knowing or noticing.

Oh, especially when your Christmas Eve dinner was now going to have the Leclerc's stopping by as well.

taglist. thank you!

@angelayse @iamahallucinationnn @ilove-tswizzle @supremebaddietrash

#f1 fanfic #formula one fic #formula one fanfiction #max verstappen fanfic #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagines #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc smau #f1 smau #formula one smau

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lilghostiequinni · 3 months ago

Text

Better Off

Main Masterlist Lando Masterlist

Pairing: Pregnant! Leclerc!female reader x Lando Norris; former Girlfriend! Leclerc!female reader x Max Verstappen

Warnings: Fluffy, Cheating, Pregnancy

Summary: Never would you think that what your boyfriend would do the thing he promised not to, pushing you away and into the arms of another, with his child on the way.

Requested: no / YES by Anon

You were with Max Verstappen for over 3 years.

The next step in your relationship would naturally be married and then babies, but over the last couple of days, you noticed that babies were the next step.

You found out you were pregnant, Max was at a race when you found out, and you wanted to wait until the next race because you were going with him.

You left the hotel room of that race to get a few things to tell Max, but when you got back, Max wasn't in your room like he said, so you went out of the room to ask reception if Max had left because that is what he usually does.

But when you left the room, you felt compelled to look the other way, and you saw Max making his way back to the hotel room, but there was something messed up with his appearance, and you seen a room door open at the end of the hall and the head of Kelly Piquet sticking out watching Max walk down the hall.

Before Max could see you, you quickly went back into the room and hid what you bought, not wanting to tell now because of the feeling you had.

The race was won by Lando, and Max said he was going out with Lando and a few other drivers to celebrate and asked if you wanted to go with him.

You told him no, knowing you couldn't drink, so you made up an excuse of not feeling the greatest, a believable excuse because Max had witnessed you throwing up this morning.

You had fallen asleep sometime while Max was out and when you woke up the next morning, Max was sound asleep in the spot next to you, still in the same clothes he left in.

You got up and grabbed your phone because you realized that it had gone off.

When you opened your phone, you had two different messages, one from Kelly and one from Lando.

You opened Lando's first because you and he were friends outside of Max, and you knew him better than Kelly.

It was a photo of Max kissing Kelly in the middle of the club they were at, and the message read, "I wanted to tell the other day because I saw them, but I had no proof."

Tears came to your eyes; you knew Lando wouldn't lie about this, so you took a second to believe what you saw and that maybe your gut feeling from the other day was right.

You took a deep breath and opened Kelly's message.

It was a video, obviously taken the same night. There were also a few pictures from that night and before, as well as screenshots of text messages, the earliest being from a few months ago.

The message with it was, "Hey girly, I wanted to tell you that Max has been with me when he isn't with you or when you're gone. I noticed some signs of things and just wanted to tell you."

You basically threw your phone away from you, tears in your eyes, ready to fall, but you couldn't let them fall, you looked behind you to Max, still sleeping soundly.

You wanted nothing more than to wake him up and confront him or for him to wake up and see what he was doing to you without even trying or being awake.

But you knew you couldn't do that.

You packed what you brought with you as fast as possible.

When everything was in your suitcase, you called Lando to come and get you. He picked up on the first ring, and you just told him to come to get you.

I just wanted to let you know that you didn't leave a note for him in the room. You looked back at Max one last time before leaving.

When you got to reception, you told them to tell Max when he came down that the two of you were done. They told you to write it down in case of shift change, and you did; you wrote, "Hey girlie, we're done."

Then you walked out the doors.

You had booked a flight to Monaco in the process of your packing; you were supposed to be going to Red Bull with Max tomorrow, then back to Monaco on Wednesday, with him leaving again early Thursday.

When Lando pulled up, you told him to take you to the airport, and you explained to him that Kelly also sent you a hey girlie text that you just wanted to get back to Monaco to get your stuff from the apartment you had with Max.

He just sighed, knowing he wouldn't be able to convince you to leave and wait for him, so he drove you to the airport and gave you the keys to his apartment to stay in, and that he would help you after the next race when he had a week off.

You gave him a hug before letting go to catch your flight.

A/N: I hope this is to your satisfaction, sorry it's a week late. Part 2?

Tags: @poppyflower-22 @samantha-chicago @barcelonaloverf1life @tallrock35 @ellen3101 @llando4norris @mcmuppet @issi-loves-dannyric @hellothere9597

If you want to be removed from a tag list, let me know so I don't keep tagging you. If you are striked through, I don't know if you want to be tagged, but just let me know if you want me to continue or stop

#f1 #formula 1 #ln4 #lando norris #mclaren #lando norris imagine

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viennakarma · 9 months ago

Text

Everything I Wanted III.

LESTAPPEN x READER (PART 3/FINALE)

Summary: Your journey to become a Motorsport legend wasn't easy, especially when your path clashed with your greatest rivals, Max Verstappen and Charles Leclerc.

Word count: 10k

Tags: Driver reader, mentions of crash, angst, abusive parent, daddy issues, trust issues, character death (not reader), cursing, strong rivalry, misogyny in motorsport, invasive media, aggressive fans, reader suffers with cyberbullying and hate, smut, female reader, +18, unprotected sex, voyeurism, exhibtionism, edging, filthy, porn with plot, queer! everyone, polyamory lestappen, bit of dirty talking, pet names, open ending, HEA, not beta read

Relationships: Lestappen x Reader

Mentor!Kimi Raikkonen x Reader

Sebastian Vettel, Fernando Alonso, Lewis Hamilton x Platonic!Reader

Notes: this is full of motorsport inaccuracies, just go with the vibes please. There are also a few inaccuracies regarding other drivers' lives, but they are just to fit the story. This chapter is a tiny bit angsty. Maybe I should've mentioned it before, but both Max and Charles are single in this story. I'm sorry if it feels rushed or if it has any mistakes, I just let my heart go with the flow!

Find me on Twitter!

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

You spend a few days in some happy daze, just shamelessly bashing in your Championship. Everyone knew because you were positively giddy during the last race week in Abu Dhabi, you were seen smiling more during that one week than you had been seen smiling in your three years of Formula 1.

Some of the drivers were even more amicable towards you and your closest friends were even teasing you all the time, calling you Champion so they could see you blush and giggle.

“Hey there, Champ,” Lewis would greet you.

“Buenos días, campeona,” Fernando would say and laugh at your reaction.

Lando even joked to some reporter that you were in love with the championship.

There was a dinner organized by the drivers to say farewell to Sebastian. Despite knowing most drivers confirmed their presence there, you planned to go and leave early because you always felt left out whenever most drivers got together.

That’s why you texted Lewis to ask what he was wearing that night, and you ended up wearing high waisted suede pants, and a white T-shirt, finishing with a classic black scarpin in your feet and a purse.

Since you and Nando were in the same hotel, you decided to go together with his driver. Only when you got to the car, Charles was also inside the car, and you had to sit quietly by his side, his thigh brushing yours. Nando was in the passenger seat, and you started small talk with him to diffuse the tension he was unaware was happening in the backseat. You were engaged in conversation with Nando when you felt Charles fingers touching your knee. Jolting, you immediately slapped his hand away.

“You ok there?” Nando asked from the front of the car.

“Uh, yes! Just an- annoying mosquito!” You said, faking a smile.

Charles pouted, crossing his arms and pointedly looking to the window of his side.

As the three of you arrived there, half of the grid was already there, seated and chatting. Lewis welcomed you first, warning that he purposefully invited Sebastian to arrive thirty minutes later, so he was the last to arrive. As you sat beside Nando, you noticed how Charles sat beside you again, facing Pierre across the table, and you ended up facing Max. Your eyes met, but you looked away, deciding to focus on conversation with Nando and Lando, who was in front of him.

When Seb arrived, he was welcomed with a round of applause, which made his cheeks redden a little as he laughed. The dinner went well, and you shared red wine with a few of the others, some of them preferred other drinks. It was nice chatting with everyone, and it was the first time you really felt part of the group, everyone together laughing and eating.

“Y/N, who’s your idol from this table?” Carlos asked with a smirk.

“You wanna put me in trouble,” you eyed around. Everyone knew that the people you were closest with, Lewis, Seb and Nando were your racing idols.

“Come on, your favorite, Lewis, Seb or Fernando?” Lando joined in, and the others joined too, egging you on.

“Kimi is my favorite,” you muttered before taking a sip of your wine. Everyone started shouting and calling you a liar, “fine, fine, it doesn’t mean I’m not a big fan of the other two, but growing up, I’ve always wanted to race like Fernando.”

“And now you do,” Fernando said, raising his glass in a toast, which honestly made you blush. Everyone started making fun of you because you were shy and giggly.

You ended up staying until the end, when everyone had to leave to get a good night of sleep for the free practices the next day.

Race day there was a small ceremony to say goodbye to Sebastian, and it was the only part of the week that made you a little sad, even though part of you were really happy knowing he would get to spend time with his family and dedicate himself to his projects of sustainability. When the drivers made a little corridor to applaud him, Sebastian hugged you and you felt a little teary eyed.

The race was great, and you put some effort into winning that one, because you wanted to finish the season with a bang. And a bang it was, holding the P1 trophy again, kissing it and then raising it high as homage to mom.

After the season ended officially, you went straight to Woking to visit the factory and thank everyone personally for making you a car fast enough to make you the champion. Then you had a few media commitments, had to go over some marketing and legal meetings about brands deals and whatnot interested in your image.

Finally, by the beginning of December, you went back to Monaco and slept in for a few days, relaxing body and mind.

When Lando found out you were living in Monaco, he invited you to a padel match, and despite not knowing the game very well, you never said no to any form of competitive sport that could take your mind off things.

“I’ll let you know, I’m a fast learner, Landito.” You pointed when he gave you a padel racket.

“Come on, you have 20 minutes to learn the basics before our competition is here,” he said.

“Oh, we’ll be playing as duos?” You smiled, letting him lead you to the court.

Lando taught you the basics for a while, and you were getting the hang of it when you heard voices behind you. You stopped short as you noticed your competition were Charles and Max, and as they saw you, they too seemed surprised.

“Hello,” you greeted them with a nod.

Luckily Lando didn’t waste any time with pleasantries and went straight to the game. Which was great, since that was a language you could speak. You soon noticed Charles and Max had a bit more experience than you, so you had to up your game a bit, using strategy to outsmart them.

You and Lando won three games and Charles and Max won four.

As you finished, you went to the net and shook their hands. Max stared at you intensely, but you ignored him and went grab your bag.

“You’re leaving?” Lando asked, “we were going to grab a snack after.”

“Oh, um, yeah- I gotta go, I still have a lot to do around the apartment and I’m waiting for some furniture to arrive,” you gave an excuse.

“You’re living in Monaco?” Charles asked, visibly surprised at the info.

“Yeah. So, bye. Thanks for the game.” You started walking away, but Lando jogged to catch up to you.

“Hey, uh- text me when you’re free this weekend. I wanted to talk to you privately about… McLaren” he whispered your team’s name and you raised an eyebrow, you had no idea what he wanted to talk about, but you nodded.

Lando ended up coming over to your apartment Saturday afternoon, he helped you paint your living room walls a soft green, and after you finished, you were eating a few snacks when he finally said what he wanted to talk about.

“So, I know that legally we shouldn’t be talking about it, but- for how long is your new contract with McLaren?” He breached the subject. You paused.

“What? You know my contract ends by the end of next season.”

“Yeah but- the new one-”

He silenced himself abruptly, probably realizing you didn’t get a new one. You pressed your lips in a thin line. You had a contract similar to Lando’s, that would end by the end of next year. But now- now Lando had been offered a renovation, and you weren’t.

“They offered you an extension already?” You asked, shocked.

“No- I mean- It’s just-” Lando realized by your face that he had fucked up.

“Lando.”

“Yes, from 2024 on, with possible extensions,” He said, apologetically.

“Oh” you whispered.

“I’m so sorry, I’m sure they are just taking their time putting your contract together since you’re, you know, the world champion,” Lando startled rambling, until his phone started ringing, “I’m sorry, I gotta go, I’m streaming tonight and I need to set up. I’m sorry, Y/N. I’m sure they’ll offer your renewal soon.”

You bid him goodbye, still processing his words. You tried to be reasonable and not be upset, but the prospect of not receiving a proposal being the world champion didn’t sit right with you. You meditated, thinking to not let that get to you, but a few days before the FIA Gala, you received a proposal from Mercedes, and another from Aston Martin. Both were great, great contracts. They offered a lot of money, security and great publicity.

The night of the Gala, you went all out. Amanda helped you hire a glam team, so you had make up, hair and stylists helping you dress. You wore a silver dress, long with a high slit on the leg, black heels, and your hair was short now, shoulder length and dyed black. You wanted a femme fatale look, and that’s what you got.

Unfortunately, Kimi and Minttu couldn’t go with you, and you didn’t bother to find a date, opting to go by yourself. When you arrived at the ceremony, all eyes were on you. You posed a little by the red carpet and answered a few questions about the championship.

During the ceremony you sat with Lewis, chatting up until the main awards were called. You watched as Charles went up the stage for the third place trophy, he was handsome wearing some designer suit and tie, and glasses that made him even more attractive. He said a couple of words, before making his way down. Then was Max, wearing a gorgeous tux, perfectly tailored to his shoulders and waist. While he was talking, you fixed the bust of your dress and waited for your name to be called alongside the words world champion.

When you got to the stairs, Max was down there, and he offered you a gentlemanly arm to help you up, you hesitated for a brief second but then accepted, letting him guide you up the steps.

Your eyes were on the beautiful trophy. The smile on your face was big, almost giddy, as you went on the stage. You kissed your trophy, leaving a red lipstick stain on the side of it, and you stopped by the mic. After a brief second to recollect your thoughts, you sighed.

“Wow! It’s such an honor to receive this as a token of my hard work and all my years facing pushback for this dream,” you smiled down at the trophy, “I’ll try and keep it brief. I know I have already said some of this, but I’d like to thank my team, not only for making this amazing car that became part of me during this season, but also for giving me a chance three years ago. Thanks to Jace and Amanda, who were such great help this year. I’d like to thank Kimi for seeing me when I was on the brink of giving up and when no scouts looked in my direction, and Minttu for taking me in as one of her own,” you put a hand on your chest, above your heart as your voice choked a little, heavy with emotion, “Thank you, Sebastian and Fernando for accepting my friendship when everyone else turned their backs on me,” you found them both around the crowd, Nando sending you a wink, and Sebastian smiling wildly, “and last but not least, I’d like to thank my mum for working hard to put a roof over my head and food on the table while I was out there hustling for my dream.”

Everyone clapped and you waited for the applause to die down. You could end your speech there, but you wouldn’t be the Lioness if you did.

“Oh, and for those who said I wasn’t gonna go far… You can suck my-” you interrupted yourself, showing your tongue cheekily, making almost everyone in the room laugh.

That night you drank, danced and sang like never before. You woke up hungover and a little blacked out, not remembering the whole night, only some glimpses of it.

You stayed the Holidays with Kimi and his family, and despite being invited by Lando to a big New Year’s Eve party, you opted for a chill celebration. You still found time to send Sebastian and his family some Christmas presents and you managed to go karting with Fernando on his track in Asturias.

After meeting with Fernando, you went on a solo trip around Spain, visiting cities and learning a little bit about history while practicing your spanish. You also tried a few hobbies, out of curiosity. You tried playing tennis, skydiving and surfing.

Soon, you were back in Monaco to resume your training for next season and traveling to Woking to see your new car. You also sat with Amanda and your lawyer, and accepted a few brand deals, one for makeup and another for a big fashion brand. You were genuinely happy with both, you always wanted to get into fashion but never had the time or knack for it, but now with your deal, they would link you to a stylist and give you outfit options.

You entered the new season fresh, feeling good not only about your talent as a racing driver, but about your looks and new style, feeling that your championship could finally back you up.

Only if the media got the memo.

“Y/N do you believe when people attribute your championship win to Verstappen’s mistake?”

You felt fire in your throat, anger bubbling up.

“No, I believe I won the championship because I drove well the whole season. I attribute my championship to myself, my talent and my hard work,” your tone was harsh, and you didn’t even bother to sound pleasant, “I wonder if this was asked to every other Formula 1 champion of the world or just me?”

You huffed, putting your mic down, and you saw Fernando leaning towards you to whisper, “it’s good to have the Lioness back.”

It was different seeing Nando wearing green now and Sebastian’s absence was noticed from day one. He had sent you a text wishing good luck in the season.

There was also a weird shift that you noticed soon, right in the first few races. The rivalry between Max and Charles had been placated a little. They were still rivals on the track, but out of it, they were seen chatting and discussing, all in good spirits and friendly. Whatever rift had caused the tension all these years was apparently mended. So now, they were only your rivals, together against the greater evil. You.

Without a win in the first three races that season, you were sure something was wrong. Could it be your car, but it could also be you.

You came out of debriefing feeling a stress induced headache starting. You walked around the paddock aimlessly, just trying to clear your head and not face any photographer or reporter. That’s why you were around the moving boxes and trucks, trying to find a secluded spot to breathe and meditate.

Unfortunately, you ended up facing two people pressed against a wall. Frowning, you tried to understand what was going on, when you realized it was Max and Charles. Their sides were pressed on each other, but what caught your attention was that they were holding hands, whispering to each other.

You paused, trying to make sense of it. And then Max caressed Charles’ jaw. Then you decided, it was none of your business whatever they did.

Turning around, you were leaving when you stepped on something and it broke loudly. You just kept walking away, not looking back, you were almost leaving the lot when someone held your wrist, making you turn back around.

“Wait, Y/N, we- we can-” Charles’ voice failed him, visibly nervous.

“We can buy your silence,” Max added, suddenly. You frowned, shaking your head.

“I didn’t see anything,” you muttered trying to walk away, but now Max also held your other wrist.

“Say your price,” Max pressed further, making you angry.

“I don’t know what kind of psycho you take me for, but I didn’t see anything,” you say, suggestively, “I wouldn’t want someone to out me, and I wouldn’t do that to anyone else either. Your secret is safe with me.”

“Fuck,” Max whispered, letting go of your hand.

“You- you promise?” Charles asked, still not letting go of you.

“I swear on my mom’s grave.” You said softly just because you could understand their fear, you knew first hand how cruel the motorsport world could be. Whatever was going on between them was none of your business.

You left without another word, hoping they believed you.

The season kept going, and your car wasn’t as good as the year before which was really upsetting you and forcing you to work even harder to match your quality the previous year.

But also both Max and Charles stopped publicly taunting you, making people wonder if your rivalry had ended. It was annoying because that dynamic was all that you’ve known from them, and the fact that they stopped shading you because they were scared to anger you and you eventually exposed them to the world was even more annoying. You wondered if you should talk to them, to let them know it was never coming out of your mouth.

You decided silence was the best course of action. You had enough problems with your car as it was.

Before the fifth race of the season, all the drivers were called for a meeting, to talk about a few safety measures that were being put in place for paddock safety. You sat through it quietly, only listening to the FIA representative. You knew that meeting was because of what had happened to you in Zandvoort the year before, you had taken your complaints to the FIA and miraculously, they had abided by it.

You left the meeting as soon as it was over, walking away. But then, you touched your wrist as a nervous tic.

No. No.

You noticed you didn’t have your watch with you the moment you left the building, patting your pockets to make sure it wasn’t there as you ran right back to the meeting room where the drivers debrief had been.

As soon as you entered, you saw both Max and Charles checking the watch, the monegasque was the one holding it.

“Hey, uh-” you paused, trying to not sound rude, “that’s mine, can I have it back?”

Charles looked at you with that smirk as Max moved away a few steps. Charles opened his hand in your direction, handing you the watch. But as you were to grab it, he pulled back and threw it. You froze, seeing the watching flying directly into Max’s awaiting hands behind you.

“Please, don't-” you gasped as Max pretended to throw it back to Charles. But he didn’t, he just extended his open hand to you, probably noticing the worry in your face.

Skittishly, you got closer to him and grabbed the watch from his hand. He didn’t pull away like Charles had done.

But as you pulled it back, your own hand slipped the watch, and you eyed it with horror as it hit the ground immediately breaking the crystal. You felt like your heart was breaking along with your mom’s watch.

“No, no,” you whispered, kneeling down to take it back.

“Hey, what is happ-” you heard Lewis’ voice entering the room but he stopped short as he saw you almost crying on the floor. He immediately helped you get up.

Both Max and Charles were shocked, still rooted to the spot as it was the first time they ever saw you show any kind of extreme emotion, and the pain in your eyes made both of them get filled with guilt.

You stood up still holding the watch in your hand as a fragile thing, pretty much like your heart.

“Hey, kiddo. Come on,” Lewis put an arm around your shoulders, pushing you away softly after giving the other two drivers a nasty glare.

You didn’t try to get it fixed, and you still wore it even with the crystal shattered. You knew it was a relic, vintage and probably handmade since it was generations in your family. But also you were too emotionally attached to it to get rid of the watch.

After the race, once you got a P2, finally, you went to the hotel, skipping the celebration the team wanted to throw for you but still picking the bill for their night out.

It was late at night when you were rewatching the race, trying to see whatever mistake caused you to miss that P1 that was just within reach but you didn’t manage to take it. You were taking notes, typing in your laptop, when a knock on your door interrupted. You had already ordered room service, but sometimes Amanda did it for you if she thought you weren’t eating enough.

You opened the door to be faced with Max and Charles.

“Can we come in?” Charles asked, and confused, you opened the door wider to let them in.

“We came to apologize about the watch, we’re sorry.” Max started, looking at Charles for his cue.

“That was really immature of us, sorry,” Charles added.

“It’s alright,” you sighed, a little tired, “it’s not your fault, really. I dropped it, not you.”

“But it wouldn’t have happened if we just didn’t mess around with you.”

You sighed again, despite being sad about the watch, you didn’t really blame them for it. Charles took your hand suddenly, making you stare up at them, both of them looking at the broken watch you were still wearing. Max opened the bag and handed you a small box. It was a Rolex.

“We’re really sorry, Y/N,” he handed you the watch. You stared at the box, taking it as a sign of good faith from them.

“Thanks,” you whispered, “I was just eating, you wanna join me?”

They nodded, uncertain. They followed you to the en-suite, the most recent race paused on the TV. You closed your laptop.

“I appreciate the gesture, but-” you unclasped the watch in your wrist, handing it to Charles who was sitting closer to you, “it has emotional value, it was mum’s.”

You waited as they read the inscription, Charles gasping when he realized it had way more value to you than the stupidly expensive Rolex they managed to buy you. Running his thumb on the inscription, Max looked at you.

“I know a guy back home, he- he can fix the crystal,” Max told you, “would you trust me to take it to get fixed? It’s the least I could do.”

“You don’t have to,” you shook your head, “I don’t blame you for breaking it.”

“Please?” Max asked, and something inside you spread warmth in your chest.

“Fine,” you sighed, seeing Max pocket your watch in his bag, “please, help yourselves.”

They went to the table of room service and grabbed a bit of food. They sat around.

“You were rewatching the race?”

“Yeah, I like taking notes, seeing what I can improve…”

You closed your laptop and the TV, not wanting them to check your confidential information.

“How are you feeling this year?” Max asked, awkwardly trying to start a conversation.

“I’m alright, I guess. I mean, the car could be better,” you shrugged.

“And about your mom?” Charles looked at you intently.

“It’s grief, right?” You blinked slowly, “it comes and goes in waves. Sometimes they’re tiny waves breaking on your ankles, and sometimes it feels like you’re going to drown in them.”

There’s a brief silence, but when you meet his eyes, Charles’ eyes shine in understanding.

“I know.”

Max managed to change topics, talking about the track, the race and his impressions. Was a safe topic, lighter. You didn’t notice how, but you three ended up sitting in a small circle on the floor. Max was passionately talking about track adherence, and he was so focused on his explanation that it was actually funny. You eyed Charles, and you two bursted out laughing, which made Max stop, looking at you confused.

When you stopped laughing, sitting straight, Charles was suddenly very close. Way closer than before. His face was just a few centimeters away from yours, and it made you dizzy.

You snapped your head to Max, who was looking at you with just as much desire as Charles. He nodded to you, giving you permission.

Charles held your face and kissed you, softly and tentatively. You broke the kiss, looking from Charles’ beautiful eyes to Max’s. You watched as Max shifted closer to you, holding your jaw as he kissed you too.

You couldn’t wrap your head around what was happening, but you were very shocked and equally turned on.

Max’s hand slid from your jaw, down to your neck, and you were still wide eyed, your breathing progressively more shallow. You felt Charles behind you, his hand on your waist, pressing softly. You closed your eyes as Max slowly closed the distance between you again, and you felt his lips pressing against yours. With shaky fingers, your hands trailed beneath his shirt, up his back, nails grazing his skin. While you opened your mouth to deepen the kiss, you moaned, feeling Charles leaving open mouthed kisses to your neck and shoulder, goosebumps rising in your skin. It was overwhelming, because they were everywhere, hands, lips and bodies stealing your breath. Everything was so hot, you felt like removing your clothes and the pulsing in your shamelessly wet panties.

“Take it off,” Max breathed after breaking the kiss, he helped the monegasque, who quickly tore your clothes leaving you only in panties. Max pushed you until your back was on the floor, and he and Charles were kneeling on each side of your body. “Charlie, come kiss her.”

Charles laid down, kissing you gently first, then deepening the kiss until you were pawing his waist and torso under his shirt. Seeing your struggle, he removed the shirt himself, while Max watched, running both hands up and down your thighs. Max suddenly pulled Charles closer, kissing him, their kiss was just as hard and messy as the kisses they had given you. Seeing the way their lips explored each other made you even wetter, and you couldn’t help but run your finger above your slit, your pussy still clothed. They removed each other’s clothes very fast.

They stopped, and Max soon removed your panties, laying between your legs. You moaned as his tongue lapped at your pussy, tentatively and Charles leaned down to kiss you again. Your heart was running insane, so fast you thought it would stop. Charles went lower and mouthed at your nipples, and you reached for his cock.

“Spit,” you ordered Charles, offering the palm of your hand. A little hesitantly, he did, a glob of spit on the palm of your hand and you grabbed his cock again, and he moaned out loud feeling the glide of your hand.

You felt one of Max’s fingers inside you, twisting so good that you had to hold his head, grinding your hips into him. The pleasure of Max working your cunt was so blinding that you lost focus on the handjob, but it didn’t deter Charles, who just decided to fuck into your hand.

You looked down, just to see Max looking straight at you through his lashes. He sucked at your clit, watching you writhe and come undone, grinding your hips on his face, wetting half of his face as he devoured you.

“Charlie will fuck you now, yeah?” Max asked as you recovered, and he carried you to the couch, positioned you on his lap, facing Charles, who just knelt between your legs.

Charles filled you up in one swift movement, and you moaned at the tight fit, melting into Max just behind you, holding you firmly, one hand on your neck, the other across your abdomen. The dutch kissed your neck, biting and sucking your skin, but his eyes trained on the way Charles’ hips started moving into you, you pulled Max’s hand that was on your neck and put it over your mouth, to muffle your moans, he pushed two fingers in your mouth and you sucked. The pressure was deliriously good, and Charles kept blabbering about how good you felt, and how warm was your cunt, and you were making him feel so good, mixed with lots of french expletives. Charles pressed further, his chest against yours as he found Max over your shoulder and kissed him. You felt Max’s hand that was between your bodies, find its way to your clit, rubbing in circles and pushing you even faster to your second orgasm, drooling over the fingers he still had in your mouth, you hips shaking so much you were rubbing Max’s cock with your ass, at the same time that Charles came crashing down, filling you up as he moaned out loud.

“My turn now, yes?” Max said, repositioning you like a ragdoll, while Charles laid down, pulling you on all fours on top of him, as Max took his turn behind you.

Charles pulled your face closer, kissing you all sloppy and open mouthed as Max filled you up to the hilt, making your knees shake. As if he knew, and he probably did, Charles held your hips up when Max started pistoning into you, fucking you so good you could only hold onto Charles and bite into his shoulders to keep yourself from being too loud.

You did not sleep that night. Max and Charles’ stamina wa otherworldly, and you three kept fucking until morning came. Sometimes you just watched them, sometimes you took one while the other rested, sometimes you took them at the same time. With them, you tried more adventurous positions than you had tried your entire life. They had a different way of finding out the workings of your body, of discovering the rhythm you liked and the sound of your moaning echoing on the walls.

The second time they slipped into your room was almost three weeks later, under the guise that they wanted to give your watch back now fixed.

After a little chit chat Max pulled you into his lap and Charles pressed his chest to your back and in minutes you three were naked, touching and kissing and moaning into each other's mouth.

It became some sort of routine, every few weeks, they would sneak into your room, and you’d bang them any way you wanted.

Then they would stay more, bring dinner or put on a movie. They would snuggle with you in bed while the movie played, Max holding your thigh softly and you playing with Charles’ hair. It was good to unwind and forget about Formula 1.

Every day, after they left, you’d whisper to yourself.

“Don’t get too attached, Y/N. They’re your rivals.”

You didn’t want to poison all the sexy moments and all the tranquility they made you feel, but at the same time, you didn’t want to get too caught up in this. It should be fun, but it couldn’t be more than that.

Racing was never a topic of conversation between you, not only because those few hours together were sacred but also because all three of you were rivals and were in different teams, which could get very messy, very quickly.

Eventually, after Barcelona, McLaren brought a new upgrade. Which for you, it was a godsend. Finally, you could get back on your feet again. The car felt lighter and you had much more control. And in Montreal, you finally got the first win of the season. A huge weight was lifted from your shoulders and you even cried a couple of tears finishing the race first for the first time that year. And it was also the first 1-2 you and Lando had ever, which was even more reason for celebration.

You and Lando ended up closing a club for your celebration, inviting the whole team.

Max and Charles were there too, and they spent most of the night in a booth, chatting among other drivers. You knew they were watching you even pretending not to, and it was a matter of time until they had drunk enough to approach you. So you decided to not stay late and just leave.

You bid Lando goodbye quickly, telling him you were tired even if it was relatively early for a clubbing night. As you made your way to the most discreet exit, you felt a hand on your forearm, pulling you to a corner, and you were faced with both Charles and Max.

“Leaving so soon, chéri?” Charles asked, eyes glossy and probably a little tipsy.

“We came here to celebrate you,” Max said, one hand going around your waist. Wide eyed, you immediately pushed his hand away, taking a step back. They were confused.

“Not here. Too public, someone might see us, or even take pictures.”

“Don’t be like that, there is no one around now,” Charles pointed around, and granted, it was really empty on that side of the club, but anyone could walk in any moment.

“I can’t,” you shook your head, “not in public.”

“You’re ashamed of us?” Max squinted, looking into your eyes.

“I never said that. I can’t risk anything happening to my image just because I wanted to screw someone.”

“So that’s how you see us? A good fuck and nothing else?” Max pressed you further.

“Again,” you repeated slowly, your patience running thin, “that’s not what I said,” there was a tense pause and you pinched the bridge of your nose, “look, we all had more than enough to drink, and this is not the moment or the place for this conversation.”

“No, no,” Charles shook his head, “I believe you made yourself clear enough.”

With that, they walked away clearly pissed with you. Going back to the hotel, you knew there was nothing you could do at that moment to change their minds. They wouldn’t understand your point of view that easily, not only because they were drunk, but also because they weren’t a woman in Formula 1. Everyone fed off your failures like vultures, and if it leaked that you were going out not only with one, but with two other drivers, you knew you could kiss your career goodbye.

The media was never the kindest to you, and the majority of the fans weren’t either, so you knew how it would look if anyone found out about you three. They already call you slut without any knowledge of your romantic history, they would ruin your life if they were to know. And most certainly question not only your seat in Formula 1 but also your World Championship.

You just hoped you could explain that to Charles and Max when they were with clear heads.

Only you didn’t.

They never came back to your room, nor did they answer your texts.

Two entire weeks passed with only anguish gnawing at your insides, trying to reach them privately, but failing miserably. They were not only ignoring you, but also avoiding you. You couldn’t take it anymore, so in Austria, you decided to take matters into your own hands. You’d corner the first one you saw.

And that was Charles right before the drivers parade. You were the first ones to get there, which gave you some sense of privacy, well, as much as you could.

“You need to listen to me, this is a misunderstanding, Charles.”

But he straight up ignored you, not even bothering to look in your direction. With a heavy heart, you nodded, moving away from him. Making peace with the fact that maybe this was the end of your little affair. They had not understood you, and had ignored all your efforts to explain, closing the door of whatever was going on.

Resolute, you decided that maybe it was for the best. If they couldn’t understand where you were coming from, then better say farewell already. But you couldn’t help that anguishing feeling in your stomach.

It showed to be true during the race, when you were P4 fighting to get into the podium at least. Max was P3, and he fought tooth and nail to not allow you to pass, even if you had the pace to overtake him. You tried a risky move, one you had learned from Fernando Alonso. Pretend you’re going to overtake on one side, let him defend that side, then push your car to the other side and dive for the position.

You almost did the full move, but when you were going for the position, Max just pushed his car into your side, which caused you to lose control and you spun to the gravel. You just decelerated as much as you could. You left the car and went back to the pits with the help of marshals. You didn’t bother to even look into Max’s direction, feeling your eyes getting teary. You weighted with your helmet on, and only took it off inside the garage, because you didn’t want people to see you cry.

It was relatively normal to DFN because of a crash, and given the history of rivalry between you and Max, it was also very common to collide with him. What made you upset wasn’t him protecting his position, but him purposefully taking you out, like he was just getting back at you because he was angry. You had left enough space for him. Despite the overtaking maneuver being a little risky, you never once got close enough to him that you could cause an accident. He had not slipped and lost control. He had not tried to avoid you. He just ran straight into your sidepod.

“What happened today?” A reporter asked you when you went to the post race interviews.

“What is there to say? I think the images speak for themselves.” You shrugged, feeling tired but not wanting to give the media too much as to not cause a PR nightmare to Amanda.

“Seems like the FIA will investigate Max Verstappen because of today’s incident.” Someone else mentioned, and you couldn’t help but scoff.

“I’m sure they will,” you muttered, voice laced with sarcasm.

The debriefing was just as bad with your Team Principal calling you out in front of the whole team not only for damaging your car but also for putting yourself at risk like that.

“I don’t know what you want me to say, I did what any other driver would do in my position!” You sighed trying to calm down, “don’t make me quote Ayrton Senna to you. If you no longer go for a gap that exists, then you’re no longer a racing driver. You and everyone saw that Verstappen didn’t have the pace to match me, so he just plunged into me to take me out!”

God, you needed an ice bath. And maybe a new punchbag.

You were getting ready to leave when Max came up to you. You didn’t say anything to him, you honestly didn’t even want to talk to him anymore. You just wanted to go home and cry under the shower.

He was red in the face and looked distressed. You couldn’t help but feel defensive, holding your bag to your chest.

“I really don’t want to talk to you right now,” you said, trying to walk away but he blocked your path.

“Listen,” he started and the moment he raised his hand to remove his cap, it triggered you, and you flinched as if he was gonna hit you.

He stopped immediately, because he knew that was a trauma response. He knew that him being angry must have reminded you of your father growing up. He knew all that because he too, sometimes, had this kind of knee jerk reaction.

But you felt sick to your stomach. It wasn’t intentional, but it made you look like you believed he would’ve hit you, and rationally you knew he wouldn’t do that. But your stupid body did.

You avoided Max and walked away as fast as you could.

Back in the hotel you just packed your bags and left, going straight to the airport to fly back to Monaco. You were exhausted by the time you made it home, but you still took a shower and cried a couple of tears under the streaming water.

In bed, you tried to convince yourself this ending for your fling with them was for the best. It was too complicated anyway.

And you tried to convince yourself that you didn’t miss the feel of Max’s lips against your neck, or the feel of your hands pulling Charles’ hair softly. Or the way Charles used to mumble French mindlessly whenever he was concentrating on something. Or how often Max would do his maxplaining with his vast knowledge of the most random topics.

Your body was so tired but your mind just did not shut off.

You were a couple of hours into staring at the ceiling when the doorbell rang. Carefully, you went there, it was the middle of the night, so you checked the door camera to see both Max and Charles by the door.

Slowly, you opened to them. You swallowed, waiting for them to say something. You felt so vulnerable, this knot in your stomach had been tormenting you since the day they walked away.

“I’m- we’re really sorry,” Max started.

“For ignoring you and mistreating you and never once giving you the chance to explain your side,” Charles took a small step inside.

It was like a dam broke, and you ran into their embrace, sobbing. All three of you hugged, Charles with a comforting hand on your back and Max kissing the side of your head. They patiently waited for you to calm down, and then closed the door and walked you to the sofa.

“I missed you,” you murmured, holding Max’s jaw to peck his lips, doing the same to Charles, “I’m so sorry about everything.”

“Can we talk?” Charles asked, “you said it was a misunderstanding.”

You nodded, taking your phone from your room. You sat on the coffee table as you gave them your phone with your instagram profile opened.

“Check the comments on my last post,” you pointed and they sat side by side scrolling through it, the horror on their faces getting worse every second they kept going.

You knew the kind of comments you had on your profile. Hateful, hurtful comments. It had been that way since you made it into Formula 1.

“What a slut” “I bet there’s a reason why Charles hates her” “She never deserved that championship! #Retire” “Ugly bitch” “Whose dick she had to blow to get a seat?” “Overrated dumb whore” “I bet she tried to fuck her way through the grid, that’s why most of them hate her” “Max should’ve crashed into her harder”

It was nothing new to you, Kimi and your PR team had prepared you for years for this type of treatment. And you honestly had grown used to it, learning to ignore.

“This is disgusting, Y/N!” Charles exclaimed, trying to put the phone away, but Max snatched it back, still reading the comments.

“That’s just a regular Monday for me,” you shrugged, “I’m not trying to victimize myself or anything, but-”

“You are a victim, this is not okay!” Charles said.

“What I wanted to say is, I can’t risk us going public. This is what I face just for doing my job, and it would get so much worse if people ever found out. They already believe I fucked my way to the top, to them, we would just confirm their suspicions,” you felt Charles holding your hand for comfort, “it is very different for a woman. And I adore what we have, but I can't put you above my career and my dreams.”

Max extended his hand to you, and you grasped it, letting him pull you to sit between them. Charles kissed your cheek.

“We would never ask you to do such a thing,” Max said.

“I’m sorry we didn’t see what you are going through with the media and our fans.” Charles muttered, pulling your hair back with a hand, and holding your waist with the other.

“We missed you,” Max whispered against the other side of your neck.

In a couple of minutes they had you spread open on the sofa, Charles’ head between your legs and Max’s lips latched on to your nipples. They made sure to apologize orgasm after orgasm, cooing your moaning mess and kissing you stupid.

Routine went back to normal after that. You still didn’t name your affair and decided that for now, it was better this way.

With the upgraded car, you actually managed to pick up the pace and find yourself rising up the standings.

Silverstone was promising, being one of your favorite tracks, and one you knew you could win again this year. You did great both of the free practices, trying to keep your focus now more than ever, to get a chance at the championship again. There were specific races that you’d amp up your security team for safety, but Silverstone wasn’t one of them.

Qualifying day, you went to the track early morning, to meet with your team, talk about the results of free practices and your input. As you walked to your garage quietly chatting on the phone, you felt a hand on your arm, pulling you aside. You yelped, jerking around and you ended up facing the person. A man, and it took you a couple of seconds to recognize all the gray hair, but the evil eyes were still very much the same.

It had been more than a decade since you saw your father for the last time. Gasping, you took a step back to walk away, but he gripped your forearm, forcing you back.

Funny how fear worked, you hadn’t seen him for years, and you always imagined that now that you were all grown up, you’d be fearless, a big girl, brave and face your father head on. But it wasn’t how things happened. Immediately your fight or fight kicked in. Your eyes darted around, trying to catch someone you knew or someone from security.

“Let. Go.” You said, with gritted teeth.

“Is that how you greet your father?” He said, and you pulled your hand from his grasp.

“I don’t have one,” you spat, anger rising in your chest, hand in hand with fear. You wanted to bolt, to ban him from your life forever, to cry and shout all at once.

“I made you. I spent thousands investing in your career so you could be here, a little gratitude would be good,” he said with a fake smile, and it disgusted you.

“I’ll never attribute my success to you, you disgusting piece of-”

He held your face with a hand, pressing your jaw with such force that it made you stumble a step back. You gripped his wrist, trying to pull away but he pressed your face harder, pressing your head against the wall.

“Very careful how you speak to me!” He rasped, gritted teeth and all, “you little shit, you think you are better than me? I turned you into who you are! The least you own me-”

“I owe you shit!” You said, and spat on his face.

“I gave money and a house to that whore you called a mother-”

You snapped, getting a hold of the fear, and you punched him in the face, hard enough for him to get away and you get space to run. You took one single step when you stumbled into someone, and your eyes found Max.

It was a brief second between looking at you, looking behind you and recognising your father. Recovering from your punch, your father tried to get to you again, but Max stood between the two of you, pushing your father’s chest so he stumbled back. Charles arrived soon after with security, as Max explained that this man was to be escorted out and never allowed to come back.

“Chéri, are you ok?” Charles asked, seeing you taking a step back and leaning against the wall.

You nodded, trying to talk but your voice caught on your throat, trying to make sense of what was happening. Your legs gave in and you slid down until you were sitting on the floor.

“Amour, talk to me, hey-” Charles was worried, you were pale and shaking. Max also knelt down beside you, holding your face to try and see if your father had hurt you.

“Get him out,” you said, and Max nodded, going to talk with security.

“Amour-”

“Guys, there’s cameras around the corner!” Lewis showed up out of nowhere.

“I’m fine,” you managed to blurt, holding on the wall to stand up.

“Hey, hey-” Charles tried to hold your arm but you took a step back.

“I’m fine,” you repeated, walking away back into the garage.

Your mind was spinning, all over the place, and through text you told Charles and Max that you were fine and wanted to be alone. The qualifying was a shitshow. Your mind was completely all over the place, and even making it to Q2, you couldn’t go farther than P14, it felt like the car wasn’t responding to your commands.

You came out of qualy completely pissed. At your father, for showing up and ruining your good streak of races. At yourself, for letting him get to your head, for still giving him so much power over you. You walked away without a second thought, went to your room and kicked your boots off.

Press talk was another shit. You couldn’t pay attention to most questions, gave monosyllabic answers, and couldn’t explain why your qualifying performance was so bad compared to the rest of the year.

You just apologized to your team during debriefing, and silently acquiesced to whatever the strategy for the race was. Kimi had texted you asking about what happened, you didn’t want to talk to him just yet.

You were getting ready to leave for the day, when Fernando came into your room.

“I don’t want to talk, Nando,” you held your bag, not even bothering to look at him.

“Good, because I do the talking then. Go, sit down.” He pretty much ordered, his face stony and serious in a way you hadn't seen before. “What happened today?”

“I’ve got a lot going on,” it was all you said.

“Your father showed up, messed with your head and with your confidence,” Fernando said, with the certainty of someone who knew you really well. You wondered if the whole grid knew about your father’s presence today. You gulped. “Look, this is something you will master with time, but I’m going to tell you now. When you put your helmet on and get in the car, you’re a racer, nothing more. Your problems, your worries, they stay back and they never cross your mind for the entirety of the race. Out on the track, you’re one with the car, doing your best is the only thing that matters.” Fernando pressed his index finger softly to your forehead, as if he was quite literally putting it in your head, “Clear. Your. Mind.”

You sniffled, wiping the one tear that came down. Fernando’s face softened, but you knew he wanted only the best for you. And he was right. You kept giving your father this power. You handed him the power. You couldn’t keep letting him get away with it. This was the one thing you knew you were good at, your calling, your destiny and all your hard work. And you’d be damned if your father would keep a hold over your life.

“Clear my mind,” you inhaled, nodding.

You did your best to study your strategy for the day, to focus on what you could do to achieve the best result.

Early the next morning, you went to the FIA, to request access to the camera footage to find images of the altercation between you and your father the day before. The representative you talked to was initially reluctant but once you told him what had happened, he was quick to help you. You explained that it was for the better that none of that came to light, and hopefully you could get your father to be completely banned from Formula One. The representative prepared a report and assured you that your complaint would be taken seriously and they’d work on the matter as fast and as discreetly as possible.

You went to meet your team and go over and over plan A, B and C. When you got in the car, ready to race, you still hadn’t talked with Max or Charles, and you were hopeful to catch them after. Attaching the helmet, you breathed in, slowly, remembering Fernando’s words.

Clear your mind.

You raced like there was no tomorrow, only thinking of the next turn and the next car you had to overtake, you didn’t think of who it was or when, you just did it. In the future, that race was going down in history as a masterclass in overtaking and taking every little opportunity thrown your way. The time passed really fast, and when you came to be, you heard Jace screaming in your ears that you had made it. You had made it to P1 and taken the checkered flag.

Your voice was shaky as you thanked the team and Jace on the radio.

When you left, running towards your team, they congratulated you and despite the great desire to run towards Max and Charles, who were on the podium with you, you somehow managed to find Fernando. You ran towards him, jumping in his arms, not even minding the way your helmets hit with a loud thud. He hugged you, removing your feet from the ground.

“Thank you! Gracias, muchas gracias, Fernando!” You shouted hoping he could hear you with both visors up.

He patted your shoulder as you had to run back to get weighted and to post-race interview.

“Wow, I’m at a loss for words right now! You were a true Lioness during this race! Can you tell us what happened after the difficult Qualy yesterday?” Jenson Button was the one to ask.

“I was in a difficult place yesterday, and I’m very thankful for a pep talk Fernando Alonso gave me, that helped me get back into my jam!” You said, breathless, wiping sweat from your forehead, “I’m also grateful to my team for making the car that matched my energy and focus today!”

“And what did Fernando tell you?” Jenson asked, probably out of curiosity.

“Well, I can’t go out telling my secrets, can I? My rivals are all around!” You winked, and left a laughing Jenson behind.

In the cooldown room, where Max and Charles were already watching a montage with all your overtakes on a screen, you walked up to Charles, taking his hand. He looked a little concerned as you had agreed to keep your relationship private. Max joined, patting a hand on your back, and the three of you made a little triangle.

You looked at them with so much adoration, that it hit Max right in the chest and he wanted nothing more than to hold your face and kiss you silly. Charles held his breath for a brief second, being in the moment with the two of you.

“You were brilliant, today,” Charles muttered, low and hoping no mic would catch the sound.

“Unbelievable, Lioness.” Max also said with a discreet wink, then taking a step back and interrupting the moment.

That wasn’t your first podium, nor your first win, but something was different when you kissed the trophy and raised it to the sky. You felt like you’d taken back control of your life and your career. There was nothing that could actually stop you if you put your mind to it, and you knew now. You shitty father couldn’t squander your dreams when you were fourteen, and he couldn’t do it now either. You were so much bigger than him, greater than that pathetic man could ever be.

And you didn’t need him.

You had a mother that, despite not being there anymore, but she’d always be in your heart, a constant source of strength and faith. You had Kimi, who believed you when no one else did, who put his own hand over fire for you. You had Fernando, Seb and Lewis, your idols in this sport, and such good friends. You had Charles and Max, your lovers, and hopefully your future.

That night, as you were laying down in your suite, sandwiched between the two men that stole your heart, came the email with your renewal contract proposition. A five year offer, possible extensions, to make you the face of your McLaren.

You made love with Charles and Max with renewed energy, enjoying yourself and the feel of their love for you. It was just the assurance you needed to say the words.

“I love you. I love you two very much,” you whispered, running your hand through both their hairs, “I can’t promise much right at this moment, like a normal, public, relationship yet, but I do love you.”

“We know. We love you too.” Max whispered and Charles took your hand and kissed your knuckles.

“We love you too much to risk you facing awful dangerous things just so we could call you ours publicly,” Charles agreed.

That year, you didn’t get a second championship as you had dreamed, but you proudly stood with your P2 trophy during the FIA’s Prize Giving Ceremony, your chest swelling with pride as you watched Charles’ beaming face with the P1 trophy.

There was some renewed sense of purpose in yourself as you held the trophy, and in your heart, this one meant just as much as the champion trophy you had gotten the year before. This year you had overcome all the demons that had controlled you for a long time, this year you had not only learned to live with the undying love for your mom, but you had also learned about new forms of love. You had somehow rekindled that love for racing, for believing you were the best and could prove it amidst adversity.

And of course, many adversities were still to come, but now you were sure you had in yourself the power to face them.

When the next season started, you had your eyes on the prize.

Even spending a great amount of winter break with your boyfriends, they were still your rivals on track.

You were fixing your suit on the pitlane when they walked up to you.

“I hope you know this championship is mine,” Max said with a smirk. You caught his playful tone fairly quickly.

“Well, I am the current champion of the world, so we’ll see about that,” Charles crossed his arms.

“Boys, no crying when I leave the both of you eating dust, yeah?” You added, biting back a giggle.

“Baby, go easy on us,” Max joked, and you shook your head.

“Never going easy on my rivals,” You added with a whisper, “not even when they’re my handsome boyfriends.”

“See you after the finish line,” Charles winked, and they both walked away.

“Hope you enjoy the view of my rear!” You said, and they left, laughing.

Always rivals, but much more than that.

NOTE: If you want to know why I chose to end the story this way, or have any questions about the characters future, or any random headcanons, drop by my inbox and I'll try to answer most! Thank you so much for the support in this little adventure! Thank you to everyone who dropped a little ask/message asking for more, I'll try and answer you if I haven't yet! (also, sorry if i missed any tag)

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