#formula one fan fic

[redsnowdrop]

FINALLY OUT!

Carlos Sainz x OC FF is out!

Here’s the first chapter!

Next chapter ->

My F1 Masterlist for more!

https://www.wattpad.com/story/370924055?utm_source=ios&utm_medium=link&utm_content=story_info&wp_page=story_details&wp_uname=redsnowdrop

xoxo

[trashytracktales]

Hey! Please do a lando x ex!reader. They break up after a lot of arguments due to being away from each other so much and then they meet a few months later and hook up. Like angst in the beginning then lots of smut.

If it's meant to fall apart | LN⁴

💌 REQUESTED by anon ──── I was actually planning to write something similar for so long. Thank you for the request and I hope you like it 🤍

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𐙚 summary ──── Surprisingly, months apart haven’t dulled the connection between them. After a night of passion and honesty on both sides, maybe there is a future where they can make all the right decisions, after all.

𐙚 pairing ──── Lando Norris x ex!reader

𐙚 rating ──── explicit

𐙚 category ──── F/M

𐙚 warnings ──── +18, mature/sexual content, lots of angst & back-and-forth, fluff & smut, teasing, praising, explicit language, unprotected sex, mention of alcohol and drinking, swearing, not the healthiest relationship I've ever written tbh (the toxicity is implicit tho), overstimulation, pussy-drunk Lando, Max F. & Ethan aka FEEFA cameo.

𐙚 word count ──── 10.6k (Thank you to everyone who voted on this poll I posted the other day, I didn’t expect to see so many 🥺).

𐙚 date ──── Nov. 27, 2024

𐙚 a/n ──── Guys, look. I know it's A LOT 🥴 I kinda let myself run with this one because I haven't posted anything in like a week or so. I still have 2 requests I'm working on, so don't give up on me yet 🤞🏻

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SHE'S NOT ENTIRELY sure how long they’ve been dancing, but she hasn't finished her drink yet. Time feels like an illusion, blurring the edges of her vision with every new rhythm of the night. For the first time in months, she feels a little lighter, her friends’ energy pulling her out of her own head — and apartment, where she locked herself in after the break-up.

The club is packed tonight, bodies pressed together in a sea of drunken, sweaty chaos. Neon lights bounce off every surface, painting the room in vivid purples, blues, and pinks. It's not usually her style — not anymore — but she figured it won't hurt to let lose for a couple of hours.

It’s only when she steps away from the dance floor, her feet hurting and her head buzzing, that she spots him.

Why tonight, of all nights?

Why here, of all places?

Why him, of all people?

He’s leaning casually against the bar, a glass in hand, chatting with a few familiar faces. Faces that she can't help but miss.

She stopped talking to Max — well, Max stopped talking to her after ending things with Lando, too upset that she toyed with his best friend's heart for ‘no apparent reason’. Their friendship dissolved under pressure, fragile as a cheap plastic cup in the grip of sulfuric acid. But Max wasn't the only one who took it personally. That's why she needed to cut ties with everyone from her past. She needed new friends — her own friends —, she needed a new place and new clothes, and to rebrand herself from scratch. Which she did.

She thought she had made it through, but the past has its twisted ways of coming back when you least expect it.

Now, the sight of him, so vivid and real, makes her chest tighten.

She stops in place, hoping he doesn’t notice her, but then his eyes flick in her direction and, for a brief moment, neither of them blinks, the noise around them fading into a dull murmur.

He straightens slightly, his relaxed posture gone as his brows knit together. There’s something unreadable in his body language — surprise? Excitement? Confusion? Pain? She doesn’t know, but it mirrors the knot twisting in her stomach.

Her friends call out to her, pulling her attention briefly, and when she looks back, he’s still staring. Except now, he’s moving, weaving his way through the crowd toward her.

Oh, hell no.

Her heart starts to race, a mix of adrenaline and something far more complicated than fear, as she rushes to walk away; she's fought for far too long, and now her instinct is to fly as soon as she senses danger.

Unfortunately, she's not quick enough.

“Hey,” says Lando when he gets closer, his voice low but audible over the music.

Hearing him gives her goosebumps, hating the way her body is betraying her. It’s been months since she’s heard his voice, but it still hits her the same way: sharp and unrelenting.

She turns around, forcing a smile, “Hi, Lando,” she manages, her voice steadier than she feels, thinking she should try acting if she makes it out alive from this encounter.

“Can I buy you a drink?” he asks, his tone careful, yet extremely suggestive.

It makes her stomach twist again.

He used that line the very first night they met, his boyish grin lit by the dim, flickering lights of another club, in another city. Potentially another life, she's not sure. She remembers the way he had leaned in, so full of confidence and asked the same exact question with a mischievous glint in his eye.

It feels too deliberate now, too heavy with the weight of their past for her to ignore.

“All set,” she finally says, her voice quieter than she intended, as she raises her half-full glass in her hand. “Thanks.”

For a moment, it feels like they’re strangers meeting for the first time. Except they’re not, and their history is hanging heavily in the air between them.

Lando nods, shoving his hands into his jeans pockets, “How about this, let me join you for that drink?”

She takes a look to where her friends are dancing, then she turns back to him, “I'm here with my friends.”

It's a pathetic excuse, she knows that. But she has no time to think of something else. Not when her brain is suddenly all scrambled and can't form a single coherent thought.

Lando frowns, disappointed, but not willing to give up that easy. “Come on, just a quick catch-up and then you can go back to your friends. Mine won't mind,” he shrugs, pointing at the bar, where the others are following their every move like a bunch of curious minions.

She catches Max lifting his glass in her direction, and Ethan, waving frantically.

Against her better judgment, she nods.

“Okay,” she murmurs, “Let's catch up,” she spits the words, sounding a bit too sarcastic. Still, it makes Lando smile.

His shoulders relax slightly, relief softening the tension in his body. He gestures toward a quieter corner of the club, away from the pounding bass and the sea of bodies. His first instinct was to take her hand in his, but since that's over the line, Lando keeps looking back, making sure she follows him. And she does. Like a naive, lost puppy that hasn't learned a single thing in the past five months, apparently.

The crowd surges around them, chaotic and loud, and before she can react, someone stumbles into her, their elbow catching her arm. As a result, she's thrown off balance, her feet slipping on the slick floor. Gasping, she's bracing for the inevitable fall that… never comes.

Lando’s hand shoots out, catching her waist and pulling her upright. His grip is firm, grounding, and suddenly she’s pressed against him, her chest brushing his.

“Careful,” says Lando, his lips close enough to her ear for the voice to cut through the noise.

The spot where he's touching her is burning her skin. She looks up, speaking with a hesitant smile, “Thanks, I'm good.”

The club around them fades away, and all she can feel is the warmth of his hand on her waist and the familiar scent of his cologne — a smell she used to know so well. It is almost intoxicating, and it makes her mouth water. She realizes that's what she was missing the most.

Lando smiles faintly, his hand slipping away as if he’s reluctant to let go. “Always got you.”

She doesn’t know how to respond to that, sensing the double meaning behind his affirmation. So, she nods and lets him guide her the rest of the way.

They find a small, semi-private booth near the exit, far enough from the main dance floor that the music dulls to a manageable volume. He gestures for her to sit first, then slides in across from her.

She fiddles with the edge of her glass, feeling his eyes on her.

“So,” she starts, leaning back against the booth, “You're here.”

Here, as in back home.

“For a week or so, yeah. Got a bit of a break between Brazil and Vegas.”

She nods, emptying the rest of her drink in one go, “How’ve you been?”

Lando shrugs slowly, “Alright. Busy with work and everything,” he trails off, his gaze dropping to her lips for a brief moment. “It’s not the same,” he continues, his smile fading away. “What about you, what have you been up to?”

She needs superhuman powers to stop herself from scoffing in his pretty face. It’s such a simple question, yet it feels loaded, heavy with all the things they haven’t said to each other in almost half a year.

“It's been… peaceful. I moved to another neighborhood. Kept busy, distracted.”

Lando hums, his expression unreadable for some reason. “Yeah, I get that. You look great, by the way,” he states it as a fact, his voice soft but unwavering.

She hesitates, then looks up at him, really looks at him. His face is the same and yet… not really. The boyishness is still there, but there’s a weariness in his eyes that's somehow new. Plus some facial hair she always begged him to try out. It tugs at something inside her, something she’s not sure she’s ready to face. Because it hurts. Because it annoys her. Because, after everything, she's still not over it.

“Cheers,” she replies, hoping he won't catch the blush in her cheeks. “I kind of hoped you would look like shit when I saw you again,” she admits. “You know, I'm talking no front teeth and severely balding. But, oh well. You too.”

Lando's smile widens, making everything infinitely worse for her.

He wears a black shirt that clings to his frame in a way that highlights the muscles in his arms. His black cap is pulled low, worn backwards in that signature way he always did, giving him that effortlessly cool vibe. His eyes are still the same, though. Dark, piercing, the same ones that could make her heart beat faster even after everything that’s happened.

“I thought about you a lot over these months, you know,” Lando finds himself saying, chewing on his lower lip.

She shoots him a surprised look.

As if, she thinks. His Instagram feed would say otherwise.

“You did?” she ends up asking, curiosity getting the best of her.

A hint of vulnerability creeps into his voice, “Of course. I've missed you.”

She laughs dryly, “But it's been good for us, right? We just established we both look great, no constant fighting, no slamming doors, no smashed phones…” she says, looking at him intently.

He can't sustain that for long, so he looks down at his shoes, slightly ashamed, remembering how bad it used to get when the distance between them felt too much to handle. He remembers the frustration, and the helplessness he felt when he couldn’t reach her, because he couldn’t make things right. He did smash his phone once, in a fit of anger, because he couldn’t get ahold of her for hours — not his proudest moment, that's for sure.

Lando swallows hard, “Yeah, it has been nice to have some distance. I guess it makes the heart grow fonder, right?”

“Hmm,” she hums, letting her eyes travel across the room, scanning random faces and wondering how life would be if she were someone else, “I don't know about that.”

She knows, in fact. But the words pause in her throat, too tangled up in memories. When he finally looks up, she's holding his gaze for just a beat longer than she should, and she wonders if he can feel it too — that familiar pull, like gravity, drawing them back together once again.

“I know—” Lando begins, not sure from which angle to approach. “I know it was the right choice at the time, but I can't help but wonder what things could have been if I'd fought harder for you.”

“Come on, Lando,” she laughs, unamused, giving her head a shake, “We would've ended up in another vicious circle, no matter what. It's always like that with us, isn't it?”

A part of him knows she's right. Still, “We'll never know.”

“Well, maybe it's better that way,” she manages, her voice lacking conviction.

“Or maybe it’s not,” he contradicts her, his words carrying a weight that presses on both of them. “You never think about us?”

Another sharp, dry laugh — it's either this, or she'll start crying. “I am actively trying not to,” she admits, her tone tinged with exasperation. “What’s the point, Lan? Thinking about what could’ve been won’t change what happened. You were always gone, and I couldn't spend my life following you around like a headless chicken. We had a good time, but it was never going to last,” she says the last part mostly as a reminder for herself. “Not in those circumstances.”

His jaw tightens. “You think it was easy for me? That it didn’t tear me up knowing I couldn’t be there for you the way you wanted me to?”

“I didn't say that,” her eyes snap to his, “We simply weren't working. We were too good at breaking each other.”

Lando leans back in his chair, frustration visible on his face. He hates that she's right, but it doesn’t stop the ache in his chest.

His jaw clenches, “I just… I don’t want to believe that’s all we were. Breaking each other.”

Her expression softens a little at his words, “Not all. But enough to make us miserable.”

For a while, the air between them feels heavier, the noise fading into the background. He wants to say something, anything, to counter her point, but all he can do is look at her and ask himself if they were, indeed, playing a losing game back then.

“Did you meet someone?” his question flies out of nowhere.

Lando looks at her with anticipation, sensing the hesitation.

“I did,” she replies, nodding slowly.

“And?”

She meets his eyes for a split second before looking away again, fixing her gaze somewhere on the table. “And we're happily married with twins on the way. What do you think? I just. Couldn’t.”

Lando's stomach drops, trying his best to remain calm, his hands clenching into fists. “You couldn’t what? Be with them?”

She shakes her head, her movements slow and deliberate, as if choosing her words carefully. “It was too soon.”

Her answer only leaves him with more questions. “So, what does that mean?”

“I don’t know what it means,” she rushes to say, her tone tinged with irritation. It’s clear she’s as unsure as he is, but that only makes it harder for Lando to process her reaction.

He runs a hand over his face, his exasperation bubbling to the surface. “I’m just trying to understand,” he says, his voice quieter but no less intense. “Because I've also tried.”

She looks directly at him now, her eyes narrowing slightly. “And?” she challenges in the same manner, her tone carrying just a hint of defiance.

“They weren't you,” says Lando, the truth of his statement hanging between them like a heavy anchor.

They remain silent after that.

She wants to ask him why — why he still cares, and why it hurts so much to be in the same space again after all they’ve been through. Nothing comes out, though; she already has the answer to that. They didn't break up because they stopped loving each other. They had both been too caught up in their own worlds to find any kind of balance. That broke them up.

He wants her to speak. He needs to hear her speak. To react. But when she says nothing in return, there is a brief second when he feels like giving up for good; he can't do anything if she's already made a decision. He knows how stubborn she is.

Lando nods to himself while getting up and start walking toward the exit, his thoughts all over the place.

The night air greets them with a quiet, cooling embrace as they step out of the club. Of course she follows, and she hates herself for that. But she can't help it — it's instinct. Like a magnetic force he's always had over her.

On the other hand, it's how they always communicated, through gestures and actions rather than words.

The soft click of her heels against the pavement gives Lando hope. He slows down so she can catch up, and then they walk side by side, without talking. The background noise of the city keeps them company, and by the time she decides to break the silence, he stops abruptly.

His voice sounds so small now, like a child asking his parents why can't he eat his chocolate bar before dinner.

“I know it feels so silly looking back,” says Lando, as though afraid to shatter the superficial peace between them. “We did so many things wrong, but I think we also did a lot of things right.”

She hesitates, her eyes dropping to the ground where a patch of light from a distant street light catches the edge of her shoe. Her arms fold tightly across her chest, while trying to look anywhere but at him.

“Yeah, breaking up was one of the right things,” she says thoughtfully, though her voice has a trace of bitterness behind it. “Before that, we tried so hard to make it work that we ended up burning each other alive.”

It's crazy how simple words can cause physical pain so quickly.

“Yet we're still here,” he reminds her. “Knowing what we know now, maybe we wouldn’t burn so fast this time. And isn’t it worth it, even if it only lasts for a little while? We were so happy at the start.”

That’s what he clings to. The laughter, the stolen moments, the way they fit together so effortlessly — she can’t argue with that. Their beginning was a beautiful dream, but it’s the nightmare that followed that keeps her guarded now, even though all she wants is to crack his ribcage open and slip inside him so they will never be apart again.

Her voice shakes as she tries her best to make him see her side, the memories spilling out like water breaking through a dam. “I had to put myself back together, Lando. Piece by piece. And I was all alone.” She forces herself to meet his gaze, finally, her eyes glassy with unshed tears. “Turns out, our friends were actually your friends, and I had to go through the worst breakup of my life with no one by my side. I had to move, I had to build an entire life from pretty much nothing. And I had to do everything alone, because I didn’t just lose you. I lost everything the moment I made you the center of my universe.”

Her words knock the air out of his lungs, guilt clawing at his insides. “Look, I know I should have been there,” says Lando, his voice barely steady. “Fuck me. I wasn’t supposed to let you go in the first place, alright? I should’ve been a better boyfriend, and I should’ve fought harder to make it work, using what we had then. But you did fuck with my head, and I thought being away would help.”

The first tear spills down her cheek, and she wipes it away hastily, as if she could erase the vulnerability altogether.

“It did help,” she agrees. “I know I can live without it now.”

Lando freezes for a split second, then stepping dangerously closer to her. “So, you’ll be fine if we stay broken up?” he asks, his voice almost a whisper.

She nods, but it’s shaky. And when she takes a step back, trying to put distance between them, Lando decides he gave her enough space. Fuck that. He's not thinking anymore, not with his brain, at least. He closes the distance again, his hands finding her waist and pulling her close in one swift motion.

It’s impulsive, desperate even. But he doesn’t care. The moment he feels her presence in his personal space, the fire he’s tried to smother for months, roars back to life, more powerful than ever. And just like that, everything it's right again. The way her body fits against his, the familiarity of it all, makes his heart race in his chest.

“Stop being so fucking stubborn, baby,” he murmurs into her hair, his voice cracking under the weight of his own desperation. “Why can’t we at least try, hm? You told me it was too soon for someone else. Maybe it’s because it’s supposed to be me.”

Her breath catches at the sudden closeness, at the rawness of his voice. She's unsure of what to do with her hands, until they hover awkwardly by his shoulders.

“You're not fair,” she whispers, her voice slightly trembling. “You can’t just accidentally waltz back into my life and say things like that.”

“I don’t give a flying fuck about being fair,” he says, his voice firm. “I just want us back. Simple as that.”

Her tears blur the edges of Lando's face when she tries to push him away, but his grip won't let her. Not this time.

“It's not that simple, and you know it,” she says. “We’ll only end up hurting each other again.”

“Then we hurt, so what?” he counters, his voice soft but sure. “At least we’ll know we tried until there wasn't anything worth fighting for. I'm not done with you, baby. Are you?”

Her hands finally move, trembling as they brush against his cheeks. They're not as soft as they use to be, his little facial hair scratching slightly at the pads of her fingers. The connection sends a jolt through them both as her touch lingers, trailing up to his hair. She pulls at his cap with both hands, placing it on her own head with a weak smile.

“It’s longer than you used to wear it,” she notices, her tears catching the street lights.

Lando’s heart clenches, managing to shoot a small smile in return, “I thought maybe I’d try growing it out. Do you like it?”

“I love it,” she admits as she tries to messily style his hair with her fingers. “It suits you.”

For a little while, they’re trapped in their own bubble. Her touch feels like home, and all Lando can think of is that he can't lose it again.

“I’m not asking you to decide now,” he finally says, his thumbs tracing soft circles on her waist. “I just need to know I’m not the only one still holding on.”

TWENTY MINUTES LATER, they're stumbling into her apartment. She knows it's reckless, and she's basically throwing away five months of progress, but it wasn't going to last, anyway.

Addictions are very hard to keep under control, especially when they have curly, dark hair and give you bed eyes.

“This way,” she says, her lips swollen from kissing all the way to her door.

Lando doesn’t have time to adjust, his head already spinning with hundreds of scenarios that fly tirelessly through his mind. However, the only thing that captivates him at the moment is her, and the way her fingers curl into the waistband of his jeans. She tugs him closer, her lips crashing onto his once again, their breaths blending in a frantic exchange of need and uncertainty.

He watches her fumbling with the buttons of his shirt, her movements clumsy but determined. His heart reaches his throat, swallowing hard, as his hands move from her waist to his belt, blindly unbuckling it before tossing it carelessly aside. The sound of leather hitting the floor barely registers over the erratic, overlapping rhythm of them kissing.

Then, he sees it. The spark in her eyes she used to have when she looked at him — it catches him off guard, giving him hope. He follows her as she moves slowly, her back toward the bed, her movements precise, like a cat's. She lies down, propping herself up on her elbows, while he takes cautious steps closer, his shirt hanging open to reveal his chest and toned abs.

But just as he leans forward, her high heel presses lightly against his chest, stopping him.

Lando freezes, his hands bracing on either side of her foot, tracing his palm up and down her leg, as his eyes dart up to meet hers.

“You can look,” she says, catching a glimpse of confusion in his eyes. “But for now, no touching.”

He frowns, clenching his jaw at her request. It would make sense for her to bring him to her place only to torture him, but she can't be that heartless. Right? The sight of her, stretched out on the bed with her foot holding him at bay, is almost too much to handle already.

“You're not fair,” he mutters under his breath, a ghost of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“I don't give a flying fuck about being fair,” she repeats his words from earlier, her foot staying firm against his chest.

The power is in her hands, and she's planning on using them properly tonight.

“No touching,” she repeats, determined.

Lando's hands fall at his sides.

Slowly, she slides her foot down, letting it drag across his chest, making a quick stop on his lower abdomen before settling on the bed. Her gaze locks onto his, a daring glint in her eyes as she spreads her legs, revealing the black lace panties. The dress she's wearing lifts up her thighs of its own accord, leaving Lando chocking on air for a brief moment. His lips part as she trails her fingers down her own body, teasing herself the way she’s done countless nights before.

Nights when he wasn’t there.

Nights when she was alone, chasing a high only his touch could give her.

“Wanna see how I got through five months without you?” she asks, her hands traveling way down, hooking her fingers to pull at the soft material.

His breath hitches, the sight of her undressing before him so painfully slowly making his chest ache with longing and guilt.

“I thought of you,” she continues, letting a small whimper out when the soft lace peels off with a little resistance from her already soaked pussy. “Your hands, your mouth… the way you sound when you're turned on,” she discards the panties at the foot of the bed, her breath catching in her throat as she glances at him through her lashes. “Such a delicious combination between your sleepy voice and that low octave you hit when you're drunk.”

Lando’s mouth goes dry, his hands twitching at his sides, itching to lean over and collect the material off the floor to stuff it into his pocket as a souvenir. He’s never felt so powerless and yet so utterly consumed by someone before.

“Will you let me?” she asks, her lips curving into a smile that’s equally wicked and vulnerable, “Show you?”

Her name leaves Lando’s lips in a protest while he takes an instinctive step forward, but she stops him with her foot once again. It’s a punishment, and he knows it. She’s showing him exactly what he missed, and exactly how she wanted him for so long.

Lando's breath is shallow, his chest rising and falling as he watches her. Helpless. His every nerve is tuned to her, eyes following how her fingers slide so easily between her folds, spreading the wetness as she teases her hole. Of course she’s taking her time with it, only to make sure he registers every tiny detail, just in case he forgot.

Her head tilts to the side with a quiet gasp when she pushes slowly inside. The sound of her wet entrance is enough to make his knees weak, still, his body turns to stone.

On the other hand, his heart is a mess of pride and frustration — pride that she still feels comfortable to be this vulnerable and open in front of him, frustration that he has to see her like this, untouchable. That's why he's not even blinking, too afraid he'll miss a thing.

She starts to gently rock her hips against the bed, fucking her fingers in and out, her body trembling as her whimpers fill the room. It's too much for Lando, but luckily, she didn't say anything about moving. His legs finally give out, and he falls to his knees, the sound of his breath ragged and uneven as he gets closer to her.

Yes, she's in charge — for now, at least — but he can't stop his words slipping out. Quiet, yet demanding.

“Slower,” he says, fixing his eyes on the way her fingers slide over her clit. “Don't rush it, please. I want to see all of you.”

Her gaze meets his, and for a moment, neither of them says anything else. She sees the vulnerability etched into his features, the way his body betrays him, shaking with restraint, completely at her mercy.

He looks like a man unmoored, defeated. So beautiful.

“Lando…” she breaths heavily, her back arching against her own hand, that flattered slightly at his words, a blush creeping up her neck and cheeks.

She hates how much he still affects her, obeying him without questioning his ways. Like no time has passed whatsoever.

When they make eye contact again, it's like they silently agree to go with it; whatever tonight will bring.

“That's is,” says Lando with satisfaction as she resumes her movements. “You gorgeous little thing. So beautiful when you listen, yeah?”

She nods, feeling him leaning forward just slightly, close enough that she can feel his warmth on her skin, without him touching her in any way. The air feels electric, her breath stuttering as she keeps fucking up her fingers under Lando's careful guidance. He watches every motion, his jaw tightening, ignoring the ache in his boxers the moment she finds her sweet spot, crying at how good it feels. She tries to muffle the moan, but Lando catches the hesitation, his eyes narrowing in her direction.

“No, let me hear you. Please, let me hear you,” he implores, exhaling sharply. “God, you're perfect. I could watch you forever.”

Lando can't help but notice how receptive she becomes at his words, her body tightening at the way he's praising her. As a result, she presses her fingers harder onto her clit, feeling the pressure building inside.

“Mhm, Lan…”

“I'm with you, baby. Keep going,” he encourages her, his gaze fixating on the slickness dripping between her legs. “Fucking hell. You're already so close, aren't you?”

It's like every word gets caught in her throat, and the only way she can reply to him is with a pathetic, desperate whimper.

In hindsight, she's never came from her fingers so quickly before, but the wave that’s hitting her from every direction right now is too intense to process right away.

It happens too fast, and the next thing she's aware of is Lando's voice, bringing her back.

“Please,” she hears him beg, managing to give him a slight nod of her head in return.

In that moment, the lights go out. Even so, Lando wants to be patient, as his index finger lightly brushes against her warmth. She exhales, giving up control, her gaze locked on him as if he is the only one that ever knew her. Meticulous, Lando traces his long, rough finger through her wetness, causing a shock to run through her whole body as it moves up and down her clit.

She thought she already crossed her limit, but then he leans down to press his mouth on her — deliberately, unapologetically, thirsty.

Lando lets out a deep, guttural groan that reverberates against her, causing her hips to twitch slightly. His tongue is wet and warm on her pulsating clit, leaving her breathless while he tastes her like it's the last time.

“My sweet, sweet baby,” he whispers, his voice intimate and personal, the words enveloping her in layers and layers of honey.

Feeling his warm breath on her center causes a surge of tension within her, making her walls tighten as his tongue explores within. He can't help but smile just as she leans into him, her body responding naturally, and he grips her thighs, closing the remaining gap between them. At that, she instantly buries her fingers in his curls, her hips mimicking his head movements.

“Oh, fuck,” she exhales abruptly.

The rest is pure bliss — his tongue licking in deep strokes, his muffled moans between her thighs, and the way he can’t seem to let go of her, gripping her tightly because he’s been deprived of her taste for so long.

Just for a brief second, Lando raises his head and, as his gaze remains fixed on her eyes, his mouth sucks gently at her clit. She's never seen him so desperate before, the sight of him owning her like that covering her entire body in chills.

Gradually, his kisses become way too powerful, which forces her to quickly grab his messy curls and pull him closer, unable to control herself anymore.

Without any warning, she screams his name as her climax hits her like a tidal wave for the second time in a row.

His growling makes her thighs quiver in his grasp, the vibrations intensifying her pleasure as her body convulses with each new sensation, while Lando’s tongue continues licking her during every heartbeat and shiver.

Next time she looks at him, his lips shine, his cheeks are red, and his gaze so intense that it causes her heart to skip a beat, creating a connection that seems more profound than any physical sensation she's just experienced.

He didn’t try to give her the best she’s ever had, but attempt to remind her how well he knows her body — to show her she still belongs to him.

“You’re so pretty,” says Lando, keeping his eyes on her, while he presses one finger back inside her cunt to test how thight she is after her second orgasm.

“Lando,” she spits his name at the unexpected touch, still too sensitive, “What… are you doing?” she gasps softly, a mixture between a sigh and a moan, when Lando's finger pulls out and glides across her wet, delicate clit once again.

“What do you think I’m doing?” Lando murmurs against her thigh, his voice low and reverent.

He grins in her direction, while his thumb circles her clit with precise intention, like a wheel gripping the perfect racing line. Sure of himself, Lando continues his movements, realizing how overstimulated she is, as he gets up to hover above her. Her hips buck instinctively into his hand, a jolt of reaction she can’t control.

Seeing Lando on top makes her react on instinct, wrapping one arm around his neck, while the other hand travels down his chest. The heat pooling in her stomach rises fast, an apex she didn’t expect to reach so soon. It’s intoxicating, her body spiraling as her mind blanks out the world beyond him.

“Lan—” she gasps, her back arching as if trying to escape, though every fiber of her betrays that she wants more.

“Come on, baby,” he says, increasing the pace. “You can give me one more. You're doing so well, I know you can,” his voice is a blend of dominance and desire, while his fingers press into her, knowing exactly where to go and how to bend, “Like that, see? So easy for me to read you. I could fuck my fingers into your pretty hole all night long and you'd still come for me every single time, wouldn't you, baby?”

Shaking, she clings to his neck, crying out his name in spasms. He loops his free arm around her, gently kissing her cheek — a gesture so tender and innocent that makes her heart grow ten times in size.

She grips his shoulder with one hand, her eyes closing in pleasure. “I can’t—” she chokes, the words tumbling out between ragged breaths.

In an attempt to get her power back, she tries to push at his wrist, but his arm steadies her, determined.

“Of course you can, love,” says Lando, his voice a gentle command, the firmness in his tone like a driver refusing to lift his foot off the pedal, curious to see how far he can take it.

Her hand clenches around his arm as his thumb presses against her clit with ruthless precision. She reacts on instinct, muscles coiling tight as she bucks against his hand, not sure what controls her body anymore, since her brain got disconnected long ago. The slik rhythm of Lando's fingers becomes too much, and she knows she's close when he starts curling them inside at the perfect angle.

“La— Fuck, baby, that feels so good,” her voice is a high-pitched cry now, laced with desperation. “I’m going—”

“I know, baby. So pretty. Look at you, making such a mess for me,” he urges, leaning in to kiss her neck.

Her body tightens as pleasure explodes within her, blinding and all-consumming — a full-throttle sensation, unrelenting in its intensity. She sobs his name as liquid warmth spills from her pussy, coating Lando’s fingers. He doesn’t stop there, though, his hand continuing its pace, coaxing every last wave of her climax as his arm holds her securely against him.

“God, I've missed you.”

When her breathing slows down, he falls down on top of her, burying his head in the crook of her neck. Her legs shake slightly, and her fingers curl weakly into his bare chest as he cradles her close.

Lando presses a tender kiss against her temple, his voice filling the quiet. “It wasn’t acciedntal,” he confesses.

She blinks rapidly, tilting her head to look at him, confused, “What?”

“Earlier,” Lando clarifies, “You said I was accidentally waltzing back into your life — it wasn’t accidental,” he repeats.

“What do you mean?”

Lando places a few more kisses on the heated skin of her neck, sucking in a couple of bruises, the gesture meant to buy himself more time for the storm raging in his head to stop.

“Lando,” she pulls him out of it.

“Been trying to figure out how to do this for a while. I just… couldn’t stay away from you anymore,” he admits, looking up at her, his eyes pleading. “I had Max playing detective while I was away.”

She pushes him off her to sit up on the bed, pulling at the edges of her dress. “Seriously, what?” her tone is not defensive — at least not yet — but there’s a sharpness to it that cuts into him.

“No, I didn’t mean it like that,” he rushes to explain, “Look, I didn’t stalk you or anything. Nor Max,” he continues, getting up to stand next to her. “I didn’t even know where you lived until you brought me here. I swear.”

She wraps her arms around her own body, needing something to ground herself, “What did you do, Lando?” the girl asks, her voice quieter now.

He swallows, “I just asked him to check in on you. To see if you were okay.”

“And how did he do that?”

“He saw you tagged in a pic on this girl's account, and then did some research on the people you were with, paid some dudes to find out if their records were clean—” he starts chuckling when her fist hits his shoulder, playfully, but still with intent.

“Don’t be a dick,” she warns, her smile giving away the fact that she’s still amused by his immature sense of humor.

“I just… didn’t want to simply appear out of nowhere if you were happy. If you’d moved on,” Lando continues, his tone more serious now. “But when he told me you seemed like you hadn’t, I couldn’t keep pretending like I was fine. I'm really not.”

His honesty was always a breath of fresh air, but now it's suffocating. Hearing him admitting he's not okay, implying that she's the reason why, is simply heartbreaking.

Her arms drop slowly to her sides, her fingers gripping the edge of the bed, “Why now, Lando? And why not text or call?”

He scoffs, “Can you look me in the eye and tell me honestly that you would have picked up if I called? Especially given how we left things?”

She cups Lando’s chin in the palm of her hand, forcing him to look at her, “I'll always pick up if it's you.”

The admission makes his chest tighten.

Lando shakes his head, “I promise I’ve tried,” he says, “God, I’ve fucking tried. I threw myself into everything, and nothing worked. Racing, training, sim sessions, going out with the guys — no matter what I did, I was constantly thinking of you. Every night out felt wrong because I wasn’t coming home to you. And I know home is such a vague word for me, because I’m mostly away, but you made every single place feel like home, and that's why it didn't matter where I was at the time. I just needed… need you in ways I can't nor want to explain.”

His confession makes her head spin. The breakup had been difficult for her, but she hadn’t considered how Lando had handled the past five months. All along, she had assumed he wouldn’t miss her — that his life, always on the road and consumed by his own pursuits, was too busy to notice the absence of one small, insignificant detail: her.

She's now realizing how wrong she had been to think that way.

“So…?” she finally asks. “Do you think a few orgasms later can mend what was broken five months ago?”

“What? No, of course not,” he says firmly, leaning forward, his elbows digging into his thighs. “I swear, all I wanted to do tonight was talking to you. I didn’t plan on getting to this point, but I can’t say I’m mad about it,” says Lando, taking her hand in his, brushing his thumb over her knuckles. “You still want me,” she shoots Lando a rapid look, studying his face, “Just like I want you. I see it, I feel it. Baby, I know it.”

Her heart pounds in her chest, the sincerity in his voice cutting through her defenses like a hot knife through butter. She wants to be angry, to accuse him of being selfish, but the truth is, she isn’t. Maybe it’s foolish to believe him, but one thing Lando never did was lie to her. He did worse, yes, but he never lied.

“Lando...” she starts, but her voice trails off, wishing her head would stop spinning so she could think.

“I know I hurt you,” he continues, his voice softer now, “You hurt me. We hurt each other. But we're too good together not to find a way to make it work.”

She doesn’t respond immediately, her mind racing with memories of their past — the good, especially the bad, and everything else in between. Her fingers toy with the fabric of her dress, her eyes flickering between his face and the floor. The room is heavy with silence and, just for a moment, she lets herself believe that maybe, just maybe, they could find each other again.

Otherwise, if it's meant to fall apart, then let it happen with them gasping for air, tangled together, connected in every way imaginable.

THE MORNING SUN filters shyly through the curtains, soft and golden, spilling across the bed where Lando stirs awake. He’s all alone, the sheets around him rumpled from where she had slept. He blinks up at the ceiling, a little disoriented. Then, he hears the faint sound of running water and realizes she’s in the shower. It makes him feel like everything went back to normal, but he can't be sure of what's going to happen next. He can only speculate and hope, but nothing more than that.

The quiet is interrupted by the persistent buzz of his phone on the nightstand. He reaches for it, still groggy from sleep, scrolling through a handful of texts from last night — banter in the group chat, some Instagram notifications, a few missed calls; nothing too important to catch his eye. He places the phone back on the smooth surface carelessly, and his hand knocks over something solid in the process.

Frowning, he sits up to put it back in its place, and that’s when he sees it — a framed picture of them, taken during a rare quiet weekend in Monaco over a year ago, right at the beginning of their relationship. She looked so happy back then, caught mid-laugh as Lando was gazing at her with an expression so tender that it makes his chest ache now. The weight of the memory hits him harder than he expects, pulling him fully awake.

The sound of the bathroom door opening makes him turn, and he puts the frame back quickly. However, it's enough for her to catch his sudden movement, her eyes flicking to the photo and back to him.

Her cheeks flush a deep pink. “I meant to put that away,” she rushes to say, pulling the towel tighter around her body like it might shield her from the embarrassment.

“Carlos took this one,” his voice is soft, as his eyes shift back to the frame. He picks it up again, turning it in his hands. “You asked me why didn't I call, but… why didn't you call?”

She laughs dryly, crossing the space to take the frame from his hand and placing it face down on the nightstand. She sits down next to him, shrugging.

“And tell you what, Lando? That I couldn’t stop thinking about you even though you broke my heart?” she asks, shaking her head, the embarrassment turning into something closer to frustration. “It’s just a stupid picture, anyway. We barely knew each other when it was taken.”

“It’s not stupid,” he contradicts her vehemently. His hand reaches out tentatively, brushing against her soft forearm. “It's nice to know I wasn’t completely crazy for hoping you felt the same.”

Her lips part like she wants to say something, but no words come out. The towel slips slightly, and she clutches it tighter, her defenses crumbling under the weight of his hungry eyes.

“Lando…”

“Leave it there, yeah?” he says, pointing at the picture. “Facing your side of the bed, preferably.”

Seeing her suddenly deep in thought, Lando grabs her wrist and gently pulls her onto his lap, his thumb lightly brushing against her silky skin.

She looks at him, her emotions warring on her face. “If it makes me look less pathetic, it was face down most of the time.”

Lando laughs, his hands finding her waist, then her hips, steadying her on his lap, “I love you,” he says it casually, but it still freezing the blood in her veins.

Her fingers fly towards his mouth to cover his lips, “Don't,” she warns.

“You know I do. I was serious last night. You don't have to decide anything right now, but I'm not going anywhere. It sucks we needed to hurt for a while, we're both at fault, but I never stopped loving you,” he repeats.

“You're so unfair.”

“Don't care, say it back,” he teases, digging his fingers into her skin to tickle her sides.

She starts giggling, “Don't you dare.”

His grin widens, “Or what?” he asks playfully as her hands fly to his, trying to fend him off.

“Lando, I'm serious. Stop it,” her laughter blends with his while he leans in closer, his lips brushing her ear.

“I need to hear it, baby. Please. Just say it back.”

“It back,” she chuckles, feeling his fingers tickling her so mercilessly that tears form in her eyes. Their laughter bubbles over, loud and uninhibited, until she collapses against him. “Okay, fine. Fine,” her breathy voice stops him in place, catching his attention. “I love you, Lando.”

A simple confession; he asked for it. But none of them expected it to hang that heavily between them. It's not a lie — not in the slightest — and Lando knows it.

“Enough to give us a second chance?” he asks.

Her breath catches at the sudden shift in his tone, and before she can reply, his thumb traces her cheek gently.

“I'm so scared,” she admits, leaning into his touch.

Lando sighs, understanding too well where she's coming from, “I know, baby. But I'm even more afraid of losing us again. Losing this…”

His hand slides down her chest, tracing the curve of her breasts. With a gentle movement, he tugs at the corner of her towel, letting it drip smoothly down her body. Patiently, he runs his hands down her waist, moving back up to her chest as they leave goosebumps in their wake. Hungry, his hands rest on her breasts, squeezing them lightly until he feels her nipples in his palms, and she drops her head on his shoulder, whimpering softly.

Memories of last night make her body shudder, feeling the heat between her legs intensifying. Following his lead, her fingers start tugging at the waistband of his boxers, until they slip low on his hips.

Lando moves one hand around her neck, pulling her in for a kiss. He groans against her mouth, his breath hot and ragged, before breaking their connection long enough to kick the boxers aside.

Skin on skin, their bodies align like two puzzle pieces.

She hovers over him, his hands on either side of her, “I wanna take care of you,” he speaks softly, closing his eyes when her forehead rests against his. “Please, let me take care of you.”

There’s a vulnerability in his tone that twists something deep inside her. She's just learned how to be independent again. She can't throw all of it away. She can't let herself slip.

She can't.

“Okay,” she whispers, her voice steady despite the storm raging within her.

Her answer is all that Lando needs to hear. His lips crash back onto hers as he swaps their positions, lowering her onto the bed, his body pressing against hers, warm and solid. And so very real. Every touch, every kiss, every whispered word feels like a promise, a vow that he won’t let her slip through his fingers again.

And then, Lando takes control — not the type of dominance he's used to when he steers his car. It's more like devotion; his hands map her body all over again, like a driver learning every twist and turn of a new circuit, his lips following the trail his fingers blaze.

She arches into his touch, responding to him in ways she thought she’d forgotten.

But the body remembers.

And the remembering is, oh, so good.

Last night was just the warm-up, she reckons — an act meant to remind both of them how well they fit together. Lando was gentle, kind, and patient. But now, she sees the shift in him.

His eyes are darker, filled with lust, his touch greedier. She can't help but smile when she realizes that the Lando she knows all too well — the one who’s needy, insatiable, and unrelenting in his desire for her — is still there, and so ready to show off.

Her skin tingles in anticipation as she watches him, knowing exactly what he wants. And for once, she wants it just as much. Maybe even more, considering how her body is acting independently from her brain.

She wants him to give her everything, to burn through her until she’s left gasping and wet and ruined, and she’s ready to meet his hunger with her own.

But before that, “We're not done talking,” she tells him, breathing heavily against his mouth.

“Yeah, we'll talk. Stay with me and we'll talk all you want, baby.”

She wants to protest, but her air gets knocked out of her lungs and her fingernails sink into his shoulders when Lando nudges the head of his cock up and down her slit to collect the wetness. With a gentle kiss on her jaw, she closes her eyes, tracing her fingers down his arms as he pushes inside.

They both exhale, relieved that they're back where they belong.

Talking can wait.

Lando's hands grip her waist just as he pulls out, only to push back in, all the way to the hilt in one slow, but hard thrust. The feeling is almost too much for her, which is ridiculous since he just started moving. But she feels so full, and the sounds he lets out only make her open up for him even more.

“Wait, wait,” she can barely recognize her own voice, stopping Lando when their hips touch together.

She can't explain it, but she needs it.

“What's wrong?”

She looks down between their bodies, confusing Lando even more. “I…,” she begins, but she's not sure how she's supposed to voice her need.

“It's okay, you can tell me,” he assures her, bringing his hand to cup her face in his palm, tracing his thumb over her cheek.

“I—need a second to feel you,” she explains, pushing his hand away only to trace her palms over her face.

Lando chuckles, “Baby, don't hide from me. You're driving me fucking mad when you're blushing.”

“I'm not blushing,” she contradicts him, raising her hips against his, her walls hugging him tighter with every move.

“No?” whispers Lando roughly as if he lost his voice. “God, you're perfect. So good, so fucking sweet and perfect around me, baby.”

Her legs tighten around his waist, keeping him inside, while one hand moves to his lower back to push him against her even more. There is no physical space left between them, but she still wants more. It only makes Lando's cock throb inside her pussy, giving her a few more seconds to adjust to his length before he pulls all the way out and slides back, searching for the perfect pace.

“Fuck, Lando,” she whines, burying her fingers into his hair, tugging at the roots.

“Yes, I know,” agrees Lando, his eyes flicking over her face. His insides tighten at the sight of her parting her lips in pleasure, her breathing hot and irregular. “You're so beautiful from this angle.”

“Shut up,” she cuts him off, which makes Lando chuckle again.

“Why would I?” he asks, leaning closer to her ear, while thrusting a couple more times before pausing. “You look like a fucking goddess taking my cock so well.”

She squeezes her eyes shut at the sound of his voice, low and raspy, rocking her hips to find that sweet friction against her walls again.

“Keep,” she whines, “Keep going, then. Let me have it.”

Lando presses his lips on hers at the same time he resumes his movements, his hands roaming all over her body.

“You can have my cock, baby,” he groans into her hair. “All yours.”

She nods, wrapping her fingers around his biceps, “Yeah?”

“Promise you,” says Lando.

After that, he picks up pace, both falling into an agonizing rhythm. All this time, she had thought that familiarity might dull the edge of being with Lando, that knowing his moves would make it predictable and boring, maybe even ordinary.

Somehow, it’s the exact opposite.

It’s because she knows him, and he knows her so well, that every touch feels ecstatic, every kiss charged with meaning. He doesn’t need to guess what she likes; he already knows how to unravel her, how to leave her trembling and breathless. And she knows exactly what will make his breath hitch, how to draw out that low, desperate groan that ignites her own fire.

In a way, every time feels like the first, but it's always much better, because they know how to make each other fall apart like no one else can.

“Please,” she gasps, breathing wetly in his shoulder. “Harder.”

One thing about Lando, he's always been good at listening. Without thinking twice, he tightens his grip on her hips, fucking his cock inside her harder and faster than before. In an instant, her ears are blessed with the way his moans sound.

“God, I've missed fucking my pretty girl like this,” says Lando, his hands moving on her thighs to spread her more so he can slide in faster. “It's never like this, baby, fuck.”

Being with Lando is chaos, the kind of beautiful, consuming chaos that leaves everything around them in shambles. They are loud and messy, and everything is sweaty and wet and sticky. He kisses her like he’s starving, touches her like he’s desperate to memorize every inch of her skin, and she matches his fervor, meeting him with the same wild energy that pulls them under. Together.

“Lando,” she spits his name out of her mouth in short spasms. “Lando, Lan… Lando.”

It's almost like a cry for help, but she doesn't need saving. Not when he's fucking her so good, slamming against her over and over again, until the outside world fades away and all she remembers is his name.

“Lando,” she whimpers again.

“Keep me in, love. Like that,” she can barely hear him over the sound of skin slapping on skin. “Fuck. You're taking me so well, I won't stop fucking you, baby. I won't—”

She sucks in a breath of air, her body buzzing with pleasure. Wrapping her arms around his torso, she can feel how hot and sweaty his chest is. She moves with him for a couple more thrusts before she lets go, the sound of Lando fucking in and out of her while she comes so obscene that it makes her eyes roll.

“I'll never get tired of seeing you coming like that,” says Lando, pinning her to the bed, his cock feeling so fucking good inside of her that it makes him see stars. “So fucking hot, baby.”

Her nails scratch the skin of his back as her pussy clenches around his length, forcing another hiss out of Lando's mouth.

“Don't stop,” she manages to say, even though she feels her throat raw.

“Ah, look at you, now. Being so good for me,” says Lando with a smirk, tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Letting me have my way with you when you're sore and spent. And so wet, baby, you're dripping all around my cock. Fucking hell.”

Lando's jaw clenches, a visible battle playing out in his face as his breath hitches. She feels him moving deeper, hitting the sweet spot inside her, sending ripples of pleasure through her body with every thrust.

“Yes—fuck. Don't stop,” she repeats.

His eyes widen as he tries to hold on for as long as he can, but it's hard when he flashes his eyes in her direction and catches her already looking. It doesn't take long for him to realize there's a replica to her first orgasm. He nods, without saying anything else, bringing his hand up to her neck. She places hers on top of his, not to push it away, but to let it rest there as a sign that it's fine to claim her if that's what Lando needs.

And that's enough for him to lose it.

“Baby,” he breaths out, fucking her slopply, any sense of order dissolving under the weight of their eye contact.

She arches into him, her fingers trembling as they rise to cup his face.

“Keep your eyes on me,” she demands, her voice a desperate need.

She pictured that face thousands of times in the past months, but nothing compares to this. Lando groans at the command, his hooded gaze staying on hers. The intensity of his expression nearly undoes her again — his pupils blown wide, lips parted as he lets out s string of cuss words.

“That's it, pretty boy,” she whispers, her thumb brushing over his cheek as he moves inside her, his pace faltering for just a moment before he snaps back into thay sloppy rhythm, chasing his release. “Want to see you when you let go.”

She barely finishes her sentence when his orgasm crashes over him like a tsunami; no one would be able to even tell where she begins and where he ends.

Lando looks so beautiful and wrecked, and she drinks in every second of his surrender.

Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful.

When his features soften, she sees how vulnerable he is, and it leaves her breathless.

Satisfied and content, her fingers still trace his face, wanting to remember the exact way he looks in this moment, when he is completely hers.

Unable to support his weight, Lando collapses on top of her, feeling his body as light as a feather, which is so far from the truth. But she doesn't mind; she loves the feeling, actually. She loves the heaviness, and the way he keeps his cock tucked deep inside her, wet and softening slowly, not allowing his cum to leak out of her.

Descending back down from their high, the only sounds in the room are their slowing breaths and the soft rustle of the sheets. It's hard not to notice the weight of reality when it begins to creep in around the edges.

She lies beneath him, her fingers lazily tracing patterns on his back, but her mind is miles away.

“When are you leaving?” she finally asks, her voice barely above a whisper.

Lando tenses for a moment, then shifts to lie beside her, propping his head on his hand to look at her. The vulnerability in her eyes twists something deep inside him.

She swallows hard, suddenly flooded by all the reasons they had fought, all the late nights filled with misunderstandings and misaligned priorities. She remembers all the reasons why they broke up, and thinking how bad of an idea this has been. Because, how can she let go of him again, without feeling like she'll be losing both her head and heart in the process.

“On Tuesday,” says Lando softly. “But not how you think.”

Her brow furrows in confusion as she turns to face him. “What do you mean?”

Lando leans over, his hand caressing her cheek as he gathers his thoughts.

“I’ve been thinking about us for months. Since you left, actually,” he begins, his voice low and deliberate. “I had a lot of time, and I managed to figure out why it didn’t work before, why I couldn’t give you what you deserved. So… I’ve talked to the team.”

She almost stops breathing, her eyes widening in his direction while she waits for him to continue. Months ago, she would've die to have this conversation, and now that it happens, she doesn't know how to behave.

“I'm working on a schedule. To have more time for us,” Lando explains.

Her heart skips a beat. “You’d do that?”

“For us,” he repeats, his voice firm. “I can’t keep pretending I’m okay without you. I don't want to be okay without you, it's stupid. And I don’t want to keep coming back here, hoping for a second chance, only to mess it up again. I want to get it right this time.”

She stares at him, not knowing what to do with that information. This is not the Lando she knows. The recklessness and impulsivity got replaced by caution and planning the steps ahead. It's new, and exciting, and it makes her tear up.

“And what if it still doesn’t work?” she asks, her voice small.

He leans closer, his forehead touching hers. “It will.”

His tone is so definitive that she can't say anything else, letting the silence stretch between them as she searches Lando's face for any sign of hesitation.

There’s none.

“How... did you actually know where to find me last night?”

Lando smirks, studying her face with half-closed eyes, bringing his hand to her jaw. “That friend of yours posted on her story. Honestly, I didn’t know you were going to be there. But I hoped.”

She shakes her head, scoffing, “Stalker behavior.”

Lando shrugs nonchallantly, “I just happened to be nearby,” he chuckles.

“Lucky me,” she says, tracing the contour of his nose with her finger, stopping on his jaw.

“Lucky us,” he corrects, pulling her in for another kiss.

Thank you for reading!

None of my works are available for reposting on other platforms. Reblogs, likes, and comments are deeply appreciated ♥︎

© trashy track tales, 2024

[freakyformula]

Have my baby - Max Verstappen

Warnings: 18+, breeding kink obviously, creampie, unprotected sex

Word count: 1,4k

I feel like you’d realise that Max has a raging breeding kink right in the middle of a heated makeout session one ordinary Tuesday night.

"Damn, schat, you're so beautiful… Wanna put a baby in you so bad."

His comment freezes both of you. He must have realised what he just said and stopped in his tracks, scanning you for a reaction. But your face is blank, free of any emotion.

You're in shock, Max had never even mentioned having kids of your own before. Sure, you both knew that you wanted kids someday but you had not discussed it further until now. Besides, Max was good with children, and the biggest dream you had was to have a baby with him. But his admission came as a surprise.

You huff, "Baby, huh?" Gazing up at his icy blue eyes. They were filled with shame, and his head sunk into the crook of your neck with a sigh. Your hands sink into his thick hair, and you can't help but pull on it slightly, encouraging him to look up again.

"Max, look at me." You tell him, and he does, still with that adorable frown on his face.

"Say it again." You order.

"I'm not doing that, Y/N." Max quickly replies.

You sigh. "I didn't know you had a breeding kink, Max." You wink at him.

You're really into the idea. "Baby…" You whisper while playing with his hair and brushing over your stomach, imagining feeling a baby bump under your hand.

"Liefje, I didn't mean to-" He starts, his tone slightly panicked, but you stop him before he can explain himself.

"I like that, Max." You admit. As you say that, his eyes widen in surprise.

"Really?" He coos while peppering your face with kisses.

"Yeah…" You giggle. "I mean, I wasn't exactly ready to hear that from you but I like it."

Max lets out a laugh, "I wasn't thinking, I'm so sorry. I didn't want to make you uncomfortable or anything."

You shush him, "You didn't, trust me."

He offers you a faint smile as he traces his hand against your cheek.

"Can I remove these?" Max asks rather desperately, pointing to your jeans, making you nod and assisting him in dragging them off.

When the sweet smell of you hits him, he inhales and lets out a small whimper. "God, smell heavenly…"

His words make you blush, and while he's busy taking your underwear off, you look down at his bulge.

"Need you so bad, Maxie." You whine while palming his jeans.

He answers with a couple of thrusts against your hand, feeling desperate to have you and to get out of the tightening lock-up of his pants.

Something in him switches when he sees your pussy, and he manhandles your tiny figure onto your hands and knees.

"Please Max, need you." You beg. Your hand slides down to your heat, and you're already soaked. As you're playing with your clit, you slide two fingers in, stretching yourself for him.

You hear the clinking of his belt behind you, and you look back at him, arching your back further, allowing him to see you even better.

"Such a tease…" He chuckles, and you feel something slide along your slit. Something wet and familiar. You recognize it as his tongue almost instantly, and you can't help letting out a moan.

"Hmmm, taste even better." He whispers against your core. As he's licking and sucking on your clit, his nose brushes against your seeping hole, wetting his face.

You feel yourself getting closer by the second as you feel two of his fingers penetrate you and curl up against your G-spot.

Max feels the way you're clenching around his fingers, almost cutting off blood supply to his poor digits.

Before you even had the chance to react, you came. The feeling of him on you is overwhelming and you're frantically trying to get away, but he's holding himself and you in place, still sucking on your clit and fingering you frantically.

When you've come down, Max pulls his fingers out and collapses beside you, stroking your flushed cheek with his fingers.

"So what do you say, schat?" He asks, his eyes filled with adoration.

"About what?"

He pauses before he speaks, "Let's have a baby." He says, still looking at you.

"Max…" You try to sound serious but the thought of having his baby is tempting. "You're away all the time for work. It wouldn't work."

"I'll quit if you want me to. Just have a baby with me."

Silence. You try to come up with a good excuse, but the post-orgasm haze makes it hard. The only reason you're waiting is because of his career. And if he quits, there's no reason for you to wait. "You can't stop racing just because you want a baby, Max."

"Watch me, Y/N… Besides, if we make a baby now, it'll be born in the off-season, it's perfect!" He tries to resonate.

"You've planned this really well, haven't you?" You giggle.

"Mhm… You would make the most beautiful mama. You and pregnancy would complement each other." He coos while rolling you over onto your back, kissing you all over your face, making you burst out in laughter.

"Okay, okay, I give up!" You laugh, allowing Max to hover over you.

"Let's make a baby." You whisper, not sure if he heard you.

"Oh… Love." He sighs contently while pulling your hoodie off and freeing himself from his jeans and underwear. "I love you." He leans in and catches your mouth in a searing kiss, his cheeks flushing with each word.

The thought of making love to you without any barriers, feeling you for real, sends Max reeling.

His knees push your legs apart, placing himself between them. Max can't help capturing your lips in a hungry kiss, tasting your lips with his tongue. Excitement runs through him as you run your fingers down his body to his pulsating member, you grab it and give it a few pumps before brushing it against your cunt, collecting the slick from your previous orgasm on his tip.

"Are you really sure about this?" He asks for confirmation one last time.

"I'm sure of it, Max." You reply, giving his nose a gentle kiss.

Max is beaming at you when he hears the words, and slowly slides into you, connecting two bodies into one. When the tip is in, you stop him with a hand on his stomach. You would never get used to his size. "It's okay, schat, take a moment." He tries to comfort you.

Once you've adjusted to him, you nod to indicate your readiness to continue. He slowly burrows into you, ensuring you feel okay and as comfortable as possible while showering you with praise and encouragement.

"Doing so well for me, liefje."

"Looking so good like this."

"Our babies will be just as beautiful as you."

"I'm so lucky to have you."

When he bottoms out, you moan out brokenly, as does he. The feeling of him sheathed in you almost sends you into a raging orgasm instantly, in any case, you're close.

"Look at me, Y/N." He asks as he pumps into you. Your eyes are squeezed shut as you are desperately trying to keep yourself together. When you hear his words though, you open your eyes, only to find him close, looking at your contorted face. The sight of him aids your impending orgasm, and you're pushed over the edge with the help of his thrusts.

As you moan out your second orgasm, you suck Max' delicious lower lip into your mouth, while rocking your hips to get some kind of relief. Max doesn't let you come down this time and continues pumping into you, increasing his pace.

You are both a moaning mess; kissing, sucking, licking each other wherever your mouths happen to land.

"Can't wait to see your stomach swell with my child, lieve." Max whispers, out of breath, drops of sweat decorating his forehead. He stills in you, pulling your legs up on his shoulders, folding you in half. The change of angle, his tip against your G-spot, drives you into a frenzy. You're hyper-aware of everything happening, his hands on your body leaving goosebumps wherever he touches, his eyes on you, feeling like fire, his thrusts, god, you're going to cum again.

You clench around him, "My god, I'm close." Max announces, "Please, cum with me." He begs while he picks up the pace, slamming into your cervix again and again until you both yell in ecstasy. You feel streaks of his seed painting your insides while you milk his member dry.

Max collapses on top of you, spent and tired. "Jesus, Y/N."

You giggle into his shoulder, you too feeling tired, but happy.

"What if it actually sticks on the first try?" You ask.

"Might as well go for another round to up our chances." Max winks at you.

[thef1diary]

Little Big Fan | M. Verstappen

Summary: A normal Tuesday becomes stressful when you lose your daughter in the grocery store, but then you find her with her favourite driver.

Warnings: none just fluff + max being the cutest with children.

Pairing: max x singlemother!reader (platonic ish?)

wc: 1.6k

Series Masterlist

You were strolling through the aisles in the grocery store. One hand pulling the smaller basket behind you while your other hand was held by your daughter, Isabella.

It was a normal Tuesday for your little family of two, shopping with your six year old daughter. Unable to say no whenever she picks up something and looks at you with the cutest pout.

During the ten minutes of shopping, it has happened twice so far. The first time it was a box of two-bite brownies that she was currently obsessed with, and the second time was chocolate chip cookies.

You continued walking through the aisle, sneaking a glance at Isabella every time she pointed at something and said "mama, look"

Everything was going smoothly, until you had to drop Isabella's hand to open the door to the refrigerator to grab yogurt for your little one.

"Bella, which one do you want?" You picked out two flavours that she liked, wanting to let her choose one but as you looked to your side, she wasn't there.

"Isabella?" You did a full 360 turn, in case she was attempting to hide behind you as she tried once before, but she wasn't there. That's when the panic started setting in.

Dragging your basket behind, you walked towards the nearby aisles hoping to find her. "Shit, shit, shit," you muttered under your breath because you couldn't find your little girl anywhere.

You truly felt like the shittiest parent in the world. Losing your child in the grocery store was something you never thought would happen to you, especially as Isabella was always right by your side. Today, you were proven otherwise.

Close to breaking out into a full sprint, you continued looking for her, becoming less and less aware of the people around you. You accidentally bumped into a few people, but you couldn't be bothered to look at them, only muttering an apology as you passed.

You almost skipped your gaze over her, but did a double take when you spotted her familiar glittery clips in brown hair that was the same shade as yours.

"Isabella!" You almost yelled, but thankfully the aisle she was in was nearly empty. Only one other person was present, crouched close to Isabella, who was speaking animatedly with grand hand gestures.

You immediately crouched down next to her, calling her name again and hugging her tightly.

"Mama, look!" Isabella spoke when you pulled away, not understanding the depth of the situation as she pointed to the man she was speaking to.

That's when you looked at him, wondering why Isabella was speaking to him, especially as she wasn't too outgoing. Sure she'd sometimes speak to strangers, but she wasn't the type to run away from you to do so.

You stood up, holding your daughter up on your hip and watched as the man also stood up. "Isabella, angel, what happened?" You were confused as to why she was so excited.

"It's Max! The race car one," Isabella spoke excitedly, and that's when it clicked for you. Due to her father's interest in the sport, it passed on to Isabella and she would ramble on and on about it whenever she'd return from her dad's house.

"Oh," you turned to look at Max, a sheepish smile making its way to your face. "I'm so sorry, I didn't even notice her leave my side." Frankly, you weren't sure if you were supposed to apologize but you knew that he was quite famous and possibly didn't want to be bothered.

He shook his head, “no worries, I should apologize for causing this,” he gestured to your daughter’s huge smile, excitedly moving around in your grasp.

He introduced himself to you, only realizing after that Isabella had already told you his name. You chuckled and told him your name, hearing him say it back to you.

“Mama, I told him that daddy and I watch him race,” Isabella told you, and you indulged in the conversation, knowing how much she loved watching Max on tv.

“Did you tell him how you’re a biiig fan?” You watched her nod eagerly, holding her hands far apart and telling Max, “this big!”

He chuckled, not seeming to mind the little girl interrupting his shopping trip. In fact, he was quite surprised when she first approached him, all shy then the outburst came out of nowhere once she confirmed it was Max, the racing driver.

The main reason why Isabella spotted him so easily was because he was in something similar to the blue and red clothes that she sees him wearing on tv, wearing a cap as well.

“And what about you, not a fan?” Max asked you, taking you by surprise as he initiated another conversation. You shrugged, “I don’t really watch but Isabella does when she’s at her dad’s.”

It was a common interest that the father-daughter duo shared, possibly the only one so you didn’t want to take that away from them.

Max nodded, understanding your specific choice of words saying “her dad’s” rather than “my husband” or something similar.

Just for that, knowing that you were a single mother, his appreciation for you doubled. Mainly because he judged you unknowingly when he spoke to Isabella and noticed the lack of any responsible adult around, not knowing that the little girl ran away from her mother.

“Daddy promised to take me to the track one day,” Isabella’s voice snapped him out of his little bubble, one in which he was only looking at you. He had to remind himself that you were only here because your daughter was a fan, not for any other reason.

You sighed internally, not really wanting to tell Max, your daughter’s favourite driver, that your ex had promised Isabella well over a year ago. It was a promise left unfulfilled for a while, and you didn’t have the heart to tell her that it may never be fulfilled.

However, even without words, Max seemed to notice your expression as you didn’t hide it well enough. He was quick to make a decision, and crouched a little lower to be face to face with your daughter. “How about you and your mama come see me at the next race?”

Isabella instantly looked at you with the same pout that always worked on you, but this time you really had to think about it. Your gaze turned to Max, “oh please don’t do what I think you are suggesting.”

Max’s smile only grew, “I am suggesting that I can send you two paddock passes for the next race.”

Your daughter happily bounced in your grasp and she was wiggling around too much for you to hold her still. Placing her down and holding her hand, you thought about Max’s suggestion.

“Do you want to go, angel?” You asked Isabella, already knowing that she would say yes. “Please mama, can we go? please, please, please.”

You chuckled at her excitement, nodding at her and looked at Max, “looks like the decision is made.”

“Good, I will be looking forward to seeing you both,” Max stated, but remembering an important detail, you blushed in embarrassment. “One question,” you started, watching him nod to let you continue, “when is the race?”

“Next weekend. How about I send you tickets for Saturday and Sunday, would that be okay?”

To think he was a famous athlete, you couldn’t believe his kindness. Sure, not all athletes were rude, and you didn’t have any previous experience but it was still surprising.

“Yes, that should be okay. Thank you so much for doing this.” He just shrugged, “it’s not a problem at all.”

Your daughter was getting restless now, already in the grocery store for a while now plus this conversation was going on longer than she thought.

Isabella managed to release her hand from your grasp, but you instantly noticed. A sheepish smile grew on her face and Max could notice the familiarities between mother-daughter. “Stay right here, Bella,” you tried a stern voice, something you weren’t used to, so she knew you were serious.

“Okay mama,” she nodded and walked to the basket you abandoned once you first spotted Isabella.

Max said your name, bringing your attention back to him. “She’s cute, how old is she?” He asked, watching Isabella play with the items in the basket.

“She’s the cutest six year old.” You two watched her with interest, but while your gaze was still on your daughter, Max’s gaze shifted to you.

“Oh, I was meaning to ask, I need your contact information for the passes,” he scratched the back of his neck while a small smile made its way on your face.

“Are you asking me for my number?” You teased him, unsure where the playfulness in the conversation came from but neither of you were opposed to it.

“Yeah, I guess I am,” he pulled out his phone, unlocking it and giving it to you. Once you handed it back to him, he chuckled when he saw the contact name you saved yourself as. Isabella’s mama

“So I guess I’ll see you soon?” You asked, having spent more than enough time in a grocery store but somehow not wanting to say goodbye yet. “Yeah, I’ll send you the details in a bit. Maybe I might just turn you into a fan?”

“We’ll see, Max, but no promises.” You chuckled, calling Isabella so she could say goodbye to Max.

She surprised you both by clinging onto his legs, and he quickly crouched down to give her a proper hug. “Bye Maxy.”

“Bye Isabella, I’ll see you soon!”

As you grabbed her hand and began walking away, Isabella turned around to wave at Max once again, making him chuckle but easily retuning the wave.

He stood there until you and your daughter were both out of sight. Then, he groaned once he realized that he still had a few more items to grab from his list before he could leave.

[bunny-jpeg]

kink-o-ween - day nine

fernando alonso - semi-public sex

cw: smut/pwp, semi-public sex, age gap (20s/40s), assistant!reader, chauvinistic!fernando, age gap (20s/40s)

kink-o-ween: formula one edition - call of duty edition

"fernando? fernando?" lance's voice sounded a million miles away. fernando alonso was not paying attention. not while you were a shivering mess now under the protection of the roof of the garage.

you held onto your shoulders and shivered. you were standing there in a soaked white blouse (he could see your nipples), a pencil skirt that somehow hugged more of your curves, and high heels.

you looked delicious. a meal served up to fernando

fernando got up, ignoring his teammate as he headed towards you. the driver beamed as he took off his jacket and put it over your shoulders, "well, if it isn't my lovely assistant. what were you doing out there?"

you were pulled to his side, and let him rub your bicep, "i was out with the rest of the team and it started to pour. i should've brought a rain coat."

"ah well, next time. right? you'll remember." he chuckled as he brought you further into the garage. you needed to dry off, the team will be fine without their favourite assistant for some time.

while you thought you'd be with the rest of the staff before the race. instead you ended up in fernando's driver's room. but before he got you into the room, he kissed you up against the door of the place. he held onto your wet shoulders.

"you look good like this. all wet for me, everyone can see everything. i don't like that very much. you should be for my eyes only. right? you're not that dumb to think that i would let you whore yourself out like that." he got you up onto the couch in the driver's room. your clothes were restrictive so fernando did you a favour and got you out of them.

too bad he didn't leave them out to dry, rather in a wet heap. after he was done with you, you could wear some of his clothes. you'd look nicer anyway. he loved the sight of you down to your underwear, out of those restrictive clothes.

"they shouldn't be putting you in such tight things. you'd draw too much attention to yourself. i think something softer for someone like you. a woman." he chuckled as he invaded your space on the couch.

the walls of the driver's rooms were thin and the door to fernando's barely locked. it was risky, especially given your connections. you didn't want a scandal. but all caution was thrown to the wind when he got his cock out of his jeans.

there was a noticeable age gap between you and him. but you didn't care, you were an adult. and could do what you pleased. but still, the sight of a younger naked woman on top of a well known formula was driver would cause a scandal. but fernando didn't care, not when your heavy breasts were in his face, tempting him.

"you make me want to do bad things to you." he said, "things that would make a whore blush." he groped at your blush, "and you'd let me do it all, you'd let me pick you apart." his voice was hot in your ear and it made you shudder.

you were in his lap, your breasts so close to his face. his large hands groped your skin. you knew rationally it was wrong. that you should've high-tailed it out of there. but, you couldn't help yourself. not when his cock stood upright. you took a hold of his cock and sank yourself onto it before you started to ride him.

"oh perfect." he said softly, he couldn't be too loud. not while you were both on the clock. you also had to be quick as well, as you were also on the clock.

you whimpered a little but placed a hand over your mouth as you rode him. your other hand was on his shoulder for support as you rubbed yourself up against him. fernando loved the sight of you, you were so close to him. all naked on his cock, you bounced on him as you worked his cock so pretty.

"you always take care of me." he said as he kissed your neck, he could feel the sweat on your neck. his cock twitched inside of you with an insatiable need to fuck you harder.

he wanted to feel you inside and out, he wanted to drag his hands across your body. he wanted to feel the jump in your pulse as he dragged his fingers across you. he wanted to feel your nipples grow hard and your pulse jump. he wanted it all, he was greedy that way. why would he deny himself such a beautiful woman? you pranced around, all smiles, around the paddock. fernando knew that others stared at you, but you always ended up in his bed. with him. alone.

he wasn't sharing, he didn't care what gen-z did in their sexual activities. if he was going to fuck you, then it was you two together, rutting like rabbits. the idea of someone else's lips on you made him scowl without a second thought.

but you kissed away the look from his thinking as you continued to ride him. this position was perfect for a quick fuck, fernando loved you on top. it was the only time he'd allow you to be on top. since he was the man, he was always a little more ahead of you. and you were the innocent little angel that took him perfectly.

he gripped onto your hips tighter and started to control the pace more. you clung onto him with both hands as you bit your bottom lip to keep quiet. you could feel the rattle of your heartbeat in your chest. the rapid thump excited you as you moved faster.

"you're so pretty. better at this than being my assistant." he kissed at your breasts and felt good inside of you. you felt like a dream as he licked his lips and looked at you.

you replied, "i very much like my job, fernando." you clung onto him tightly. you moaned a little louder and it made you feel hot all over. the risk grew the longer you took to cum.

"i know, i know. it's perfect, even for a silly girl like you. you don't know how many men wish to eat you alive. but only i get to devour you." he groaned as he worked your hips faster. his large hands on your hips as he pushed you up and down onto his cock.

the kisses continued once more, you whimpered into it as you moved as quickly as you could. your sweat was combined with the leftover rainwater on your skin. when you pulled away, you had a blissed out expression on your face.

you looked beautiful, so, so beautiful on top of him. as your body moved against him. fernando gazed at your body and clutched onto you. he continued to move you onto his cock. it didn't take long before orgasm washed over you. you clutched onto him tightly.

he loved the feeling of you climaxing around him. he took you by the face and pulled you into a tight kiss before he continued to rut against you. it was alright, you did enough for him (for now). he let you rest against him as he fucked up into you.

you gasped and whined softly against his shoulder as you worked his hips. he was surprised that you didn't make some snide comment about how he could still fuck as good as he did at his age.

"so pretty." he said, "and so small. i could easily break you in half. you look prettiest like this. against me, letting me fuck you as i please. you're such a dirty girl." you whimpered softly in response.

it didn't take long for him to finish himself. he came inside of you, and left a red mark on your collarbone. it wouldn't be shown with any shirt you wore, but he'd know it was there.

he slowed his thrusts to a stop, but kept his cock inside of you for a moment longer to kiss you on lips. the kiss was deep, but there wasn't enough time for round two.

you pulled away from the kiss and pushed hair out of your eyes, "will you let me borrow some clothes."

fernando could never say no to you. he looked at your pile of wet clothes and said, "well, i don't have any extra bras." he chuckled, "so i guess you'll have to go without." he licked his lips.

he knew the sight of you bra-less in his clothes was going to drive him wild. at least you wouldn't complain when he tore them off of you later. <3

[lxndonorris]

priorities - Charles Leclerc

Y/N x Charles Leclerc Theme: Fluff Charles returns home right after the award ceremony due to you being ill word count: 1930+ taglist: @game-set-canet @cloud-55 gif by me open for requests :)

EN: I was, actually still am sick, so I would have loved that. Charles, where were you??

It was a strange mix of emotions—pride and longing—watching Charles accept his trophy for finishing third in the championship. You were curled up on the bed with a blanket wrapped tightly around you, your body battling a persistent flu.

You protested when Charles suggested staying home with you instead of attending the FIA Award Ceremony in Rwanda, but he insisted that you mattered more. 

Of course, you didn't let him.

You practically pushed him out the door, promising to watch the stream and cheer for him from afar.

Now, with the stream paused on your iPad, the image of Charles on stage—dressed impeccably in his black tailored Ferrari suit—etched into your mind, you couldn't help but smile.

He looked breathtaking, even through the screen, the pride radiating from him evident in every gesture. Your heart swelled at the sight of him holding the trophy, but a sharp cough pulled you out of your thoughts, a bitter reminder of why you weren't there to share this moment with him.

Exhaustion took over, and you drifted in and out of sleep, the faint hum of the evening ceremonies filling the background. Time blurred, and you weren't sure how long you'd been half-asleep when a faint sound startles you.

It is the front door opening and closing softly.

Confused, you force yourself to sit up, groggy and disoriented. You tell yourself you are imagining things, but the shuffle of footsteps and the unmistakable clack of a lock being engaged tell you otherwise.

Your heart flutters with both apprehension and hope as you slowly make your way toward the bedroom door. Cracking it open just enough to peek through the gap, you see him.

Charles.

He is still wearing his black Ferrari suit from the ceremony, the faint glow of the hallway light highlighting his sharp features.

He looks incredible; the jacket fitting him like a glove, his tie slightly loosened, and his hair a little tousled from the night. Carefully dragging his suitcase behind him, he clearly tries not to wake you.

You push the door open wider, the hinges creaking softly.

"Charles? What are you doing here?"

He turns sharply, clearly startled, his hand freezing mid-motion as he slips his keys into his pocket. 

"I didn't mean to wake you up," he says, his voice soft and apologetic.

"You didn't," you assure him, though your voice is raspy. "But... why are you here? You should be celebrating."

He blushes slightly, his hand running through his hair in a gesture you know all too well.

"I couldn't stop thinking about you," he admits. "Worrying about you. So... I came back right away."

A small giggle escapes you, but it quickly turns into a cough. "Don't make me laugh," you protest weakly, and he is by your side in an instant, his warm hand rubbing gentle circles on your back.

"See? This is why I needed to be here," he says with a small smile, his voice teasing but laced with genuine concern.

You lean into him, wrapping your arms around his waist as his scent—woodsy and clean, with just a hint of the cologne he always wears—envelops you.

"You didn't have to," you murmur against his chest. "This was your night to celebrate. You deserved it."

Charles shrugs as if it is nothing, his hands smoothing down your back. 

"It was nice," he admits. "But not as nice as being here with you."

You pull back slightly to look up at him, your chest warming at the sincerity in his gaze.

"You're unbelievable," you whisper, shaking your head.

"And you're sick," he counters, gently leading you back toward the bed. "Come on, back under the covers."

You don't protest as he helps you settle back into the warm cocoon of blankets, propping your pillows up just right. Once you are comfortable, he starts to undress, and you can't help but watch as he works on his tie first, loosening it and pulling it off with practiced ease.

"You looked good tonight," you croak, motioning to the paused stream on your iPad beside the bed.

He glances at the screen and smirks, clearly pleased.

"Did I?"

You nod. 

"incredible. Like a movie star or something."

His expression softens at the sound of your voice, which is still rough from coughing.

"I hate hearing you like this," he says, a small pout forming on his lips as he drapes his tie over a chair.

You roll your eyes playfully, though it takes more effort than usual.

"I'm fine. Just... tired."

Charles doesn't respond immediately, instead focusing on his suit jacket, which he carefully folds and places on the same chair. Then comes the shirt, the buttons undone slowly, his fingers deft and precise.

As the crisp white fabric falls open, revealing his toned chest and the faint tan lines from the season, he glances at you.

"The ceremony was good," he says, continuing the conversation as if he isn't slowly undressing in front of you.

"Max was happy, of course, and Lando and Oscar were joking around like always. But..." He hesitates, sliding the shirt off his shoulders. "It just made me want that first-place trophy even more next year."

You smile at his determination.

"You'll get it," you say with quiet confidence. "I know you will."

His lips curve into a small, grateful smile before he moves on to his belt, the faint clink of the buckle filling the room.

"Thanks," he murmurs, his gaze soft as it meets yours. "That means a lot."

Soon, he is left in just his boxers, his suit pants and shoes set neatly aside. He slips under the blanket beside you, his body warm against yours as he wraps an arm around your waist. 

You try to protest weakly. 

"You shouldn't," you mumble. "You'll get sick too."

"I don't care," he says simply, pulling you closer. "You need me, and I'm here. Besides, I have a good immune system."

He lifts an eyebrow, checking your face for any reaction. You nudge his side playfully, causing him to giggle, his voice melodic as always.

"Un...believable." You sigh, relaxing against him despite yourself.

His presence is like a balm, soothing the aches and chills that have plagued you all day. As his hand traces lazy patterns on your back, you can't help but smile.

Sick or not, having Charles here makes everything feel a little better.

The warmth of his body beside you is comforting, grounding you in the moment despite the haze of sickness and exhaustion. He has one arm wrapped securely around your waist, pulling you close as if afraid you might slip away.

You feel happy, feeling the steady rise and fall of his chest gently against you, yet you can't help but feel a pang of guilt.

"You really should've stayed and celebrated with the others," you murmur, your voice still hoarse but steady enough to convey the weight of your words. "The season was long enough, and you all earned it."

He doesn't respond right away, just smirks that signature Charles smirk—the one that melts your heart every time—and shakes his head. "I'm needed here," he says simply. "What's done is done."

You pout, biting your lower lip.

"You're impossible."

"I know," he teases, leaning in to press a soft kiss to your temple. 

"But I'm your impossible."

A small laugh bubbles up, though it quickly turns into a cough. He frowns instantly, his free hand coming up to rub your back in soothing circles. 

"See? This is exactly why I am here," he says, his accent coming through more pronounced, a sign he's meaning it. "You need someone to take care of you."

You sigh again, knowing there is no point in arguing. Charles is as stubborn as they come, and when it comes to you, his determination knows no bounds. Instead of protesting further, you reach up to cup his cheek, your fingers brushing gently against the warmth of his skin. 

Charles leans into your touch, his lashes fluttering closed for a moment as if savoring the sensation.

"You're too good to me," you whisper, your thumb tracing the line of his jaw. 

Your fingers brush over his neatly groomed goatee, marveling at the soft yet slightly coarse texture.

His eyes open, their oceanic depths locking onto yours, and he gives you a look so full of love that it makes your chest ache.

"Not possible," he says, his voice soft but firm.

His hands, warm and steady, rest on your sides and back, pulling you closer until there is hardly any space between you. His scent—clean and undeniably him—wraps around you like another blanket, chasing away the lingering discomfort of your illness.

As you continue caressing his cheek, he turns his head slightly to press a kiss to your wrist, his lips featherlight and warm against your skin.

Your heart swells at the gesture, and you can't resist letting your hand drift lower, your fingers brushing against the firm planes of his chest. His skin is warm to the touch, his muscles taut beneath your palm. 

He lets out a soft laugh, the sound low and melodic, and you glance up at him in surprise.

"Your hands are cold," he protests, his voice tinged with amusement as he catches your hand in his and presses it against his chest, trapping it there.

"Sorry," you murmur, though you can't help but smile.

Charles shakes his head, his smirk softening into a fond smile as he gazes down at you.

"Come here," he said gently, pulling you even closer until you are tucked firmly against him. 

His warmth seeps into you, melting away all the lingering chills in your bones.

You nuzzle into his chest, your cheek resting against the smooth expanse of his skin as you let his steady heartbeat lull you into a sense of calm. His arms wrap around you securely, his hands tracing gentle patterns on your back once more, as if to reassure you of his presence.

"I can see it," you murmur after a moment, your voice barely above a whisper. "You're so tired... the flight, the ceremony, worrying about me—it's too much."

Charles presses a kiss to the top of your head, his lips lingering there for a moment.

"It's never too much when it's for you," he replies, his voice soft but resolute.

Tears prick at the corners of your eyes at his words, but you blink them away, focusing instead on the steady rise and fall of his chest beneath you.

You let yourself relax completely in his embrace, your fingers trailing wide circles along his sides as you memorize the feeling of being so close to him.

His breathing begins to even out, the exhaustion finally catching up to him despite the earlier insistence. But even though, part of him moves closer to you: his thighs gently brushing against yours, his chest shifting every so slightly and his fingers grazing along your skin, their movement slowy fading.

You can feel his grip on you loosen slightly, though he doesn't let go entirely, even in his sleep. Pressing a soft kiss to his chest, you allow yourself to succumb to the comforting rhythm of his heartbeat and your own eyes growing heavy as well.

In that moment, with Charles holding you close and the world outside fading away, everything feels perfect. And as you drift off to sleep together, you can't help but feel a deep sense of gratitude for the man who gave up his night of celebration just to be by your side.

[igotlovestruck]

storiesforpeanut [ lando norris ]

[ 𝗣𝗔𝗜𝗥𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗔𝗡𝗗 𝗖𝗛𝗔𝗥𝗔𝗖𝗧𝗘𝗥𝗦 ] — bf!lando norris x pregnant gf!reader . ⊹ ✶ ㄔ 🫂 °.   *

[ 𝗗𝗘𝗧𝗔𝗜𝗟𝗦 & 𝗪𝗔𝗥𝗡𝗜𝗡𝗚𝗦 ] — soon-to-be-parents, fluff, mentions pregnancy, no specific timetable . ⊹ ✶ ㄔ ℹ️ °.   *

࣪˖ 💭 .. 𝗘𝗬𝗔’𝗦 𝗡𝗢𝗧𝗘𝗦 ⌕ this is inspired by a filipino actor, ryan agoncillo’s instagram hashtag, #storiesforlucho ! something about dad!lando makes me feel so soft >_< i’ll post this first before posting the written version of fine line (bc i am in a deep pit of writer’s block) anyway, enjoy <3

this work is purely fictional. names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. © httpsuniverse, 2023. do not steal, repost in other platforms, translate and/or claim this work as your own.

[ x . com ]

[ instagram . com ]

storiesforpeanut

5 likes

storiesforpeanut the day mum and dad went to the hospital to make sure if the tests were true, if you were true. and you were. mum and dad are both confused, scared, but are confident that they could take care of another human being. peanut, the moment we saw this sonogram, our hearts were filled with joy.

this is the day dad called you ‘peanut’ because look at how little you were, my peanut. dad even convinced mum to name you peanut, but mum shut that idea right away. our little peanut, this account is dedicated to you, so you can look at our memories as a family.

peanut, mum and dad loves you so much. you may have changed the trajectory of our lives, but we are still grateful enough to have you in our life. we love you, peanut.

love, dad.

storiesforpeanut

8 likes

storiesforpeanut you were getting bigger day by day, peanut. bigger and stronger that mum was starting to show. mum never left my side, never missed a weekend supporting whatever it is dad was doing. she started wearing bigger clothes to avoid people seeing. not that she was embarrassed, but because mum was afraid that something would happen at the early stage of your growth.

mum did not believe in superstitions during pregnancy, but when you were growing inside of mum, she didn’t want to jinx anything that might harm you, peanut. avoiding the public eye was hard, but heck, your mum did such a good job doing so.

we love you, peanut. and we will protect you from any harm. we will protect you for the rest of our lives.

love, dad.

storiesforpeanut

16 likes

storiesforpeanut our first day back in abu dhabi after a year. mum got ready for our friday schedules and we arrived earlier. people were shocked to see her, after hiding her bump with oversized clothes for at least two months while accompanying dad. people took photos of mum and dad, people started congratulating the both of us.

we hid you for a little while, peanut. that’s because of dad’s work where almost everyone in the world is staring at us and that scared mum and dad. that someone might mob the both of us and could cause you and mum harm.

negativity aside, peanut, your aunts and uncles were excited when they saw mum. everyone, including dad’s big boss had a huge grin on their faces. everyone was happy to meet you, peanut. even though it will still be a few months until we meet you personally.

we love you, peanut. we can’t wait to meet you here.

love, dad.

storiesforpeanut

20 likes

storiesforpeanut mum and had has two moods: beach mood and winter mood. this is taken after our weekend in abu dhabi. we stayed for a few more days, exploring the beach and enjoying the sun before going to a cold place to spend some time with dad’s friends (and ski! which mum can’t do as of the moment, don’t want to harm you, peanut).

you won’t believe it, peanut. mum threw a snowball on dad's head, her revenge because i insisted we call you peanut.

mum enjoys the sun and winter, peanut. those are her favourite season. dad, however, loves all seasons as long as he gets to spend it with mum and you, as well, peanut. mum and dad will experience these seasons with you in a few months.

we love you, peanut. we can’t wait for you to experience your first snow, first beach, first autumn and first spring.

love, dad.

storiesforpeanut

29 likes

storiesforpeanut taken while mum and dad are on their way to maccy d’s in the middle of winter. mum said she wanted fries without the salt. /fries without the salt/. even though that was a weird request, can’t deny mum her weird cravings. after all, she’s growing a literal human inside her–which is you, peanut.

also, mum only ate three pieces of fries and made me eat it while she watched. that i didn’t like. but you know what? dad is ready to give you everything you want. you and mum. be it a weird craving, late night feed or nappy change–i will be there for you and mum. always in all ways.

we love you, peanut. we can’t wait for you here.

love, dad.

storiesforpeanut

37 likes

storiesforpeanut mum took this video. the very first time you kicked, and dad was in the shower (unfortunately). mum and dad are visiting mum’s family where mum reunited with her childhood dog. mum’s pup, poppy, immediately went to her and checked. poppy sensed your existence, peanut. even poppy was excited to meet you.

mum and dad’s family are delighted to have you, peanut. especially your grandmums. they now named themselves, nan from dad’s mum and granny from mum’s side.

we love you, peanut. we are all waiting for your arrival.

love, dad.

storiesforpeanut

55 likes

storiesforpeanut 30 weeks in, and we finally saw your beautiful face, peanut. mum and dad haven’t gotten over the first time they heard your heart beat, felt your kicks, yet here you are... so beautiful as mum’s doctor showed us your face.

peanut, mum and dad were scared the first time we found out that mum was pregnant. but seeing you now, all those fears are gone and we feel confident that we can do this–together.

you are such a happy baby, peanut. you even got dad’s dimples, said mum. you are a perfect balance of mum and dad.

we love you, peanut. 10 more weeks until we finally meet. we can’t wait for that day to come.

love, dad.

storiesforpeanut

79 likes

storiesforpeanut last week of mum’s beautiful belly. any day now, we will finally meet you. you’ll have your first breath, first cry. mum and dad and other family members cannot wait to finally meet you, peanut.

the last nine months has been crazy, peanut. it was crazy, but it was fun. brought mum and dad closer than ever. you’ll be so loved, no, you are so loved already, peanut. and a little spoiled because some of dad’s friends from work have sent you numerous toys and clothes and even diapers to last for the next year or two.

we love you, peanut. we’ll see you soon.

love, dad.

storiesforpeanut

249 likes

storiesforpeanut well, it’s nice to meet you, peanut. mum and dad are delighted to finally see you. mum laboured for almost 24 hours, and by the time stroked at exactly 04:49 am, you were born.

dad almost passed out during your birth (for some reason), but dad got through it. mum was so brave, dad held her hand throughout the procedure and never left mum’s side.

peanut, the second they returned you to mum and dad after cleaning you and helping mum, we couldn’t stop looking at you. how could we make such a beautiful baby like you? said dad.

we love you so much, peanut. welcome to the real world.

love, dad.

yourusername

liked by mclaren, lilymhe, landonorris and 1,839,937 others

yourusername baby olivia norris checking in 🫣👩‍🍼

view all 23,961 comments

mclaren congratulations, y/n and lando! 🧡 welcome to the world, olivia 😍

landonorris my girls ❤️

user OMGGGGG shes hereeeeee

user congratulations 😭😭😭😭😭😭

user shes so tiny!!! 😭😭 so cute

lilymhe congratulations girl!! 😍 can’t wait to officially meet ms. olivia and see you soon 🤗

yourusername thank you babe 😚 you and alex can visit us anytime

alex_albon on our way NOW

yourusername dont bring any more toys ok

lilymhe aww why not :(

yourusername WE HAVE NO SPACE ANYMORE

landonorris

liked by oscarpiastri, carlossainz55, maxfewtrell and 1,990,827 others

landonorris me 🤜 🤛 peanut

view all 45,839 comments

maxfewtrell will i be able to hold olivia 😁

landonorris no

maxfewtrell ☹️

yourusername lando be nice

landonorris ok fine

user let him hold olivia!!

landonorris 😐😐

oscarpiastri congratulations mate 🫡 on my way to give gifts

landonorris thank you and pls dont bring anymore

oscarpiastri it’s a koala bear

landonorris ...

landonorris ok fine i guess

oscarpiastri 🐨🐨🐨

user no way lando’s first picture with olivia is them doing a fistbump 😭

user why are there two babies in this pic

storiesforpeanut and landonorris

908,729 likes

storiesforpeanut on your very first boat ride, dad had the courage to finally ask mum an important question. a question dad has been wanting to ask mum since he saw your very first sonogram. and guess what, peanut? mum finally agreed to marry dad!

you may not remember this at all, peanut. but it was a day to remember, indeed. dad really wanted this to be perfect, and he got what he wanted. this is a year full of surprises.

we love you, peanut. we love you so much.

love, dad.

view all comments

user omgomgomgomgogm

user LANDO GETTING MARRIED JFJFHFJF IM CRYINGGG

user OLIVIA MAY NOT REMEMBER IT BUT SHE JUST WITNESSED HER PARENTS GET ENGAGED AND GET MARRIED IN THE SAME LIFE TIME

user congra😭😭😭😭tula😭😭😭😭tions

yourusername

690,857 likes

yourusername beach days with the loves of my life 🌅

view all comments

user i love this family so much

user THE KITTLE FINGERS

user PEANUT’S SMALL FINGERS IM CRYIGN

landonorris i love you babies

yourusername we love you, daddy

landonorris 😳😳😳

yourusername sleep on the couch tonight

landonorris I WAS JUST KIDDING

landonorris BABE

landonorris PLEAAAASEEEE

[b0r3dtod3ath]

hi!!! could i pls req alex x reader,, where the reader is a model and dating alex but the other drivers (besides george&logan) don’t know. so when she comes to a race and is in the williams garage,, all the drivers are hitting on her and trying to get w her but when they try to get alex’s help, he tells them she’s his gf but they don’t believe him until someone walks in on them or smth idk take whatever creative liberties u want!! thankuu <3

warnings: fem!reader; mention of a razor (shaving); 

a/n: omg i love this request! i had so much fun writing it. i also included a kinda vice-versa situation where the reader brings alex to work. i hope you like it!

word count: 1.5k

You and Alex have been dating for a few months now and with your hectic schedules you made most out of your time together. That often involves spending time even if one person is busy and the other is free. One time he accompanied you during a fashion week. Not only to spend time with you but also to truly understand your work and the world you live in.

One thing Alex hadn’t expected was that the week was packed with an enormous amount of events. He didn’t mind it as you took him everywhere and he got to see you backstage as well as on the runway. He loved to see you interact with your friends and co-workers and he was more than happy each time you introduced him as your boyfriend. 

As he exited the bathroom of your hotel room his eyes witnessed a heart squeezing scene. You were sprawled out on the bed with your eyes closed, tired after a particularly harsh day of fittings, rehearsals and shows. You weren’t sleeping, he could see it. "Hey, you okay?" he asked softly, kneeling beside you. You nodded weakly, "Just tired. I need to shave my legs for tomorrow. Give me a moment and I will stand up”. Alex hesitated for a moment, then took a deep breath "I'll do it”. You quickly opened your eyes, looking at him with a surprised face "You don't have to, just give me a moment”. “I want to,” he said and carried you to the bathroom where he sat you at the edge of the bathtub. He grabbed your razor and a can of shaving cream. You admired him as he focused-working slowly, with his hands steady, ensuring he didn't miss a spot or hurt you. As he rinsed the razor under the warm water, Alex felt an appreciation for the small, often overlooked tasks that were a part of your job. "You're amazing, you know that?" he said, looking up at you with eyes full of affection. You smiled back with gratitude. "Thank you, Alex. It means a lot”.

“Okay, we are going to the Versace show. When we get there, I immediately need to go to the restroom and wash all of this hair gel off.” you said looking at your calendar. You two sat at the backseat of a cab. “You know, If they put something like this on you they should also bother to take it off.” he said and gently knocked on the hard shell on your head, causing you to giggle. 

The small restroom was crowded, but you managed to find a spot by the sink. You rolled up your sleeves and turned on the faucet, testing the temperature with your fingers. Just as you bent over to wet your hair, Alex appeared next to you after dropping off your things and letting the coordinator know where you were. He helped you get the shampoo in more hard to reach spots, his fingers massaging your scalp with a tenderness that made your heart swell. Rinsing out the shampoo, Alex made sure every bit of gel was gone. He then squeezed out the excess water and grabbed a towel he had found earlier. “Thank you” you kissed him on the cheek, grabbed his hand and headed towards the makeup station. You loved how he was trying to make a conversation with people that worked around you. He was asking various questions and cracking jokes with the makeup artists. “You have to stop. You're making her giggle, her concealer will crease” one of them said laughing at something he had said. 

After the show, just as you were about to leave, your friend Airdropped you a few pictures. You and Alex washing your hair in the sink, Alex making everyone around laugh and him admiring you as you walked down the runway. The message had a little note as well: Don’t worry. I won’t send it anywhere. I thought you two would like these : )

On the plane on your way back, you two were exhausted but happy. Alex looked at you, his heart swelling with pride. “You know,” he began, his serious tone capturing your attention. “I have always respected what you do, but seeing it up close, every detail, the good and the bad… I have a whole new level of admiration for you”. You leaned against him, feeling the warmth of his body in contrast to the cold, dry air. “It’s not always glamorous,” you admitted “But having you here, helping me through it... it means everything”. He wrapped his arm around you, pulling you even closer. “You’re incredible, Love. And I’ll always be here to support you”. You let out a satisfied hum. “So.. When will you take me to your work?” you asked, smiling from ear to ear. 

The sun shone brightly over the Silverstone Circuit, where the roar of engines and the smell of burning rubber filled the air. You arrived early, your presence immediately turning heads. You had a simple but nice outfit styled with a pair of sunglasses and some jewelry. Entering through the gates you see a text from Alex saying that he is busy with a meeting for a few minutes longer than expected and asking if you are fine walking by yourself. Don’t worry, I’m gonna manage. If I need help I will text you, you replied and headed towards him. You took your time walking there, you looked around a bit and observed the preparations for the race. As you made your way to the Williams garage, the other drivers couldn't help but notice you. Lando and Carlos were the first to approach you, their curiosity piqued. “Hey there, I’m Lando” they appeared out of nowhere, causing you to chuckle. “Nice to meet you, I’m Y/N” you introduced yourself. "Are you new here?" Carlos asked, his eyes twinkling with curiosity. "Sort of," you replied with a playful smile. "I'm here to support a friend”. "Well, if you need a tour or anything, feel free to ask us," Lando offered, his smile genuine. As the two of them tried to impress you with their charm, you couldn't help but to find it incredibly funny. They had no idea you were already taken. You excused herself politely, heading towards the Williams garage where Alex was busy with pre-race preparations. 

As you were entering you noticed two familiar faces. “Hi! Great to finally see you here!” said George and offered you a greeting hug. “Hi, boys. Haven’t seen you in a while” you say as you pull Logan into a hug "Alex will be thrilled you're here” he says. As the three of you chatted, the two other drivers continued to hover around the garage, trying to piece together who were you here for. 

Finally, you made eye contact with Alex from across the garage. A wide grin spread across his face as he made his way over to you, wrapping his arms around you in a tight embrace. "Hey, you," he murmured. "Hey, yourself," you replied, smiling up at him. Lando and Carlos exchanged glances, feeling even more confused than before and walked up to you. "Ah, Alex! We were just looking for your lovely friend” Carlos said, grinning. Alex chuckled, slipping a hand around your waist in an almost possessive way “Well, I hope you didn’t scare my girlfriend because you two look suspicious”. The drivers looked stunned, their eyes widening. “Wait, girlfriend?” Carlos glanced between you and Alex as if he couldn’t believe it. Lando laughed “Nice one, mate. You almost had us there”. Alex shrugged, unbothered "Believe what you want," he said before heading off to continue his preparations.

The drivers resumed their attempts to impress you, completely ignoring Alex's statement. You found the whole situation hilarious, but you knew it was only a matter of time before they realized the truth.

Later, as the beginning of the race was getting closer and closer, you slipped away to find Alex. You wanted to wish him good luck. "Hey, beautiful," he said, pulling you into an affectionate kiss that you returned with even more passion as your hands found his hair and gently tugged on it. His hands made their way down your back. Just as you were about to break the kiss, Carlos walked in, catching the sight of the intimate moment. He froze, his eyes widening in surprise, and he quickly turned on his heel, desperate to find Lando. 

"Guys, you won't believe this," Carlos said, fully convinced "Alex wasn’t joking. She is really his girlfriend! They're definitely together.". “No shit, genius,” George whispered. Lando barely believed it but with a dose of details from his friends he erupted in laughter, finally accepting the truth. 

After the race Lando made his way to Alex. “Congrats”. He thought he was referring to him finishing in points. “She’s way out of your league, I don’t know how you managed to convince her”. The Brit patted his friend’s back and walked away. “Hey! What was that supposed to mean?”. 

June 17, 2024

[sports-on-sundays]

Okay so 🤭 what if Y/N use to be with ( whatever Barca player you choose ) and they broke it off because they supposedly wanted to focus on their career and the reader was really heartbroken and omg to make it more better y/n is Carlos sister and then she sees or hear how they moved on already! And little by little she starts to be with lando and they announce their relationship when he wins in Miami!! Like full on hard launch. 😭🙌🏽

Also this got me motivated to think of more ideas ima write them down for the future 🤭

papaya girl / LN4

Summary: ex!Ferran x Sainz!baker!reader x Lando - After a devastating breakup with your footballing boyfriend, you think you'll never be able to date someone again.

Warnings: there's a golf scene and I don't golf so-!🤞, mention of sickness, foul language, sorry if some things are not accurate, headache, partying/dancing/drunkenness/clubbing, mention of getting so drunk you had no memory of what happened, implied getting drunk to dampen emotions, getting injured, vomiting, slight soulmate feel, a bit of suggestive talk, use of babe/baby/bae/baby girl/etc., I feel like every kiss I describe is exactly the same sooo- sorry about that! ✌

Requested?: YES! 😘

Author's Note: Do you ever write something so good that you wish you could make it into a movie? That's how I feel about this. I can imagine the scenes. Didn't plan it but I guess 24 is the magic number for this one. I made the request more dramatic because... I like doing that... 👉 👈 🥺 ALSO THANK YOU FOR THE REQUEST. PERFECT MIX OF ANGST AND FLUFF. I LITERALLY LOVE YOU! If you do have any more ideas and you're up for it, let me know!

When you met Ferran Torres, you were a Madridista with a passion for Ferrari. Being a Sainz, you've always been rooting for Real Madrid, but your favorite Formula 1 team isn't as consistent. Because before that, you were a McLaren fan. And before that, Red Bull. And everything else before that, too.

Wherever Carlos is, you're a fan of it.

You, quite literally, on the day you met Ferran, were wearing a Cristiano Ronaldo jersey and a backwards Ferrari cap.

And, well, he, a new arrival from Manchester City, liked that, apparently!

And it was beautiful. They way you slowly became closer and closer, growing to know each other more and more.

And then, maybe you just hit a point. Hit a point in your relationship where you wanted more, and Ferran realized that if any more was given by him, it would be too far for him.

And he cut it off. Said he was doing well in Barcelona. He had high hopes. You, a sold out Madrid fan, had been wearing his number on the back of a blaugrana jersey. And despite that blaugrana jersey, he ditched you.

He said his work, his career, his passions, his dreams, were more important than you.

But you can't complain, Y/n. That's fair. He was gentle in letting you know. He made it clear he didn't want any malice between you and him.

You roll over in bed, staring vacantly at your wall. There's a large Real Madrid flag hanging in the middle. A smaller Ferrari flag on one side. A few posters of bands and teams you like or events you've been to, signed by different celebrities. People who are more famous than 'Carlos Sainz Jr.'s sister' or 'Ferran Torres's ex-girlfriend.' On one side, it seems silly to have a poster signed by Max Verstappen, but you do. On the other side of the flag, you have a peeling old McLaren poster, showing the younger versions of Carlos and his former racing partner, Lando Norris, looking just seconds away from breaking into a loud, hysterical laughter.

And next to that, you have a Barcelona poster.

You smile sadly to yourself.

I must look like such a conflicted sports fan.

You stand up, walking over to the wall. After gently peeling the Barcelona poster off the wall, you slowly trace the badge with your fingers, any hint of a smile now gone as tears begin to fill your eyes, threatening to fall.

"This is stupid," you murmur scornfully, your voice cracking softly. "This isn't even my team! It's not my city...!" You toss the poster across the room, leaving it in a place where you don't intend to pick it up anytime soon.

Let it gather dust and crumple. That's what Ferran did. He threw away our relationship like it was nothing but a worthless piece of paper. And now I'm suffering the consequences.

You sigh. You're trying not to let yourself be bitter. You want to look back on everything you and Ferran had and be happy. Appreciate it. You still love Ferran. You don't want to be angry with him.

Someone said to you once, Hurt heals with time, as long as you let it.

You grab a bold, red Sharpie from your drawer and your notebook from a dresser. You scribble those words in all caps, rip out the page, grab some tape, and hang the piece of paper where the FC Barcelona poster used to be.

You sigh, but nod, before turning to get ready for your day.

You hate winter. You never hated winter before this winter, but now you hate it.

With the breakup, you've been avoiding anything La Liga like the plague, even if it doesn't involve Ferran Torres. It just reminds you too much.

And with Carlos on winter break, getting ready for the start of the season, he's not around much. Going on different trips, he's quite busy. Which you don't like. You and your brother have a strong bond.

It's not like you don't have anything to do. You just don't have anything interesting to do. You have a shop that you run, but you have enough staff hired to not have to be there all the time.

Yes, in a family of racing, you were never too into it. Your strong spot is in baking and business running, so that's why you opened up a bakery in Madrid.

And being a Sainz, of course it was a success.

Same type of thing as Charles Leclerc's 'LEC,' except you're not the racing driver Charles Leclerc, you're not doing ice cream, and you've always been doing this, for five years now.

You watch as a young, excited couple walks in, jabbering away in English. You can just tell they're tourists as they get in line to order. Once they get to the counter, the woman immediately leans over the counter in excitement, saying, "Is Carlos Sainz here?" in English.

You chuckle. Sounds American. "Which Carlos Sainz?" you tease.

They look blankly at you as if you're just about the dumbest individual to walk planet Earth. You chuckle and say, "Why don't you get to ordering? There's a line."

Towards the afternoon, as things begin to quiet down just a little bit, you look up at the doorbell jingles and freeze.

When he reaches the counter, you snap at Ferran, "Why are you in Madrid?"

"Am I not allowed to be? Either way, hello to you, too."

You sigh, licking your lips as you study the Valencian boy. "What can I get for you?"

He shrugs and orders, before seating himself down at one of the seats at the counter. "How have you been, Y/n?" he asks.

"Fine," you swallow, staring down. "And you?"

"I'm good." From there, he begins just talking, as if we're old friends or something, and not exes.

He seems so happy. So content.

To not be with you.

Suddenly, mid-way through one of his many sentences, you slip your hand over his, almost on impulse. He stops, staring to your hands, and then to you.

You breathe softly, "Why? Why did you come here to just talk to me? Aren't you moved on? Ferran, this is torture for me."

Lines crease into his face. You can see him swallow, looking at your smaller hand on his. "I'm... I'm sorry. I am moved on. I'm doing well. I just thought maybe we could be friends. I'd never want to date you again; I'm not in the place to date anyone. I'm happy single. But I just feel bad. I know you're hurt, and... I'd be happy to still be friends with you, is all?" He slips his hand out from underneath yours and takes his cup of coffee with it, taking a sip as he watches you intently.

You drag a hand over your face. Though you didn't want to admit it, seeing him come in to the bakery gave you hope. That maybe he wanted to try again. But those words that came out of his mouth? They cut deep.

"Listen, Ferran," you barely whisper. "I'm still trying to work through what happened. Everything. It's hard for me. But I appreciate it, and when I'm ready, if I'm ever ready, I'd love to be your friend. O- Okay?"

He nods slowly, staring down. "Alright... Fair enough."

"What's wrong?" your older brother, Carlos, asks. You watch outside the window as the world travels by.

You sigh. "Ferran."

"Him, again?"

"Carlos," you sigh. "Stop. It's nothing new. I'm just missing him. He wants to stay friends, but I said I needed time."

"Ah. Well, you know, I did tell you never to date-"

"-a Barcelona player. I know," you roll your eyes with a little smile.

He chuckles, shaking his head. "Hurt heals with time, as-"

"-long as you let it. I know," you comment, smiling a bit wider.

"Exactly. It'll come."

You sigh. "I hope so."

As Carlos pulls into the parking lot, you say, "So. Is that why you decided to take me golfing with your friends? Just wanted to check up on me, but you never have the time to sit down over dinner these days?"

Carlos smiles as he shuts off the car. "No. I could have made time. But I wanted your company golfing."

"You know I'm not big on g-"

"Shut up," he grins. "Yes you are."

"I suck."

"Not as bad as some people I know. In fact, you're actually pretty okay."

Soon, you meet up with a bunch of Carlos's friends. They're all chatting, and you're just kind of zoning off, looking out over the grassy hills, when suddenly you look up when Carlos says, "Ay! Lando!"

You blink in complete and utter shock. "Why is Lando Norris here?"

As Lando approaches, he eyes you, saying teasingly, "Well, thank you for the warm welcome, Y/n Sainz."

"Lando was just around, so he made the drive to meet us here," Carlos quickly fills in.

Soon, you're all off. After a round, as you're walking back to the cart to go get lunch, Carlos says, nudging Lando, "I think my baby sister is better than you."

Lando laughs. "You fucking muppet; what are you talking about?"

You grin, falling in step with Lando and Carlos. "I'm a better golfer."

"That is just wrong," Lando says, glancing at you. "Downright wrong."

"It's a Sainz thing," Carlos puts in. "There's no way for you to beat us, Lando. You can't. Winning runs in the family."

Lando rolls his eyes, reiterating, "Your baby sister is not better than me."

"You have no right to call me a baby," you put in indignantly. "I'm probably older than you."

Lando looks at you, his nose all scrunched up. "How old are you?"

"Twenty-four."

"Hah! Same age."

"That still doesn't mean you get to call me a baby!"

"Her birthday is in January; different year than Lando's. Lando, you can call her a baby; you're older," Carlos says.

"Carlos!" you snap. "Don't give him permission!"

Carlos grins and shakes his head as he breaks off to chat with some of his other friends and get on the cart with them.

Lando grins, giving a discreet pat on your lower back as he murmurs, "Sorry, baby."

And for some reason, that makes you feel things. You decide to blame it on the fact that Lando's just good-looking.

Once you're all seated down with your lunch, you comment, "So what's with the whole..." your hand goes to your chin, referring to his facial hair, as you look at Lando expectantly.

Lando slams down his fork, saying lightheartedly, "Sick of people asking me that!"

You smirk. "Makes you look like you're forty."

"Whatever, baby."

"You know, I have a picture on my wall of you and Carlos when you were just babies, too."

As soon as Lando raises an eyebrow with a smirk, you know it was a mistake to word it that way. "You have a picture of me and Carlos on your wall?" he asks, mock condescendingly.

"No, no. I mean, I do, but- It's just an old McLaren poster." You immediately look down.

"What, are you a fan of mine?" Lando teases further.

"No! I'm a fan of Carlos, and you just so happened to be his teammate at that time. The point is that you two look like pipsqueaks in that photo! Lando, you looked so awkward, with all your acne-"

"What, Lando, you think she's a McLaren fan? She's sold out for Ferrari," Carlos interrupts.

"Literally! I deck myself out in red every Sunday!"

"Today's Sunday," Lando starts like the stupid idiot he is, "And I don't see you wearing red."

You groan, leaning back, covering your face in your hands. "Carlos, how are you this guy's friend? He's so annoying! Why'd you invite him for? How do you put up with him?"

Carlos just smirks, patting your shoulder, and says, "I'm used to having to put up with irritable people, after having to grow up with you."

You roll your eyes, fighting off a smile as all the guys around you at the table laugh out loud.

On the car ride back, you're mostly silent, your thoughts swimming with one thing and one thing only.

Lando Norris.

And there's a soft smile on your face as you think about your morning with him.

But Carlos can tell you're deep in thought. Usually, you'd be yapping away right now. "Anything on your mind?" he asks carefully.

You sigh. "Not much."

"You're bad at lying. You're staring out the window dreamily. What's on your mind?"

You sigh. "It's stupid. You'll make fun of me."

"I'm not stupid, though. I can already guess what it is."

You gulp. "How?"

"For the whole day, the only person you talked to was Lando."

You feel your stomach drop. "It's nothing serious, Carlos. He's just funny."

"You said something like that to me about Ferran Torres right before you officially started dating."

That makes you feel a bit sick. "Carlos, I won't let that happen again."

"Don't. And don't be getting interested in anyone until you're over your ex. And we both know you're not. And please don't be getting interested in someone like Lando."

"Why?" You eyebrows scrunch together. "I thought you two were buddies."

Carlos grins teasingly. "If you somehow got yourself with him, there would always be two annoying people in one place."

"You're intolerable!" you snap, laughing.

"You are too, hermana."

It strikes Carlos as strange when the first thing Lando says to him the weekend of Bahrain, before even a hello, is: "Is your sister here?"

"Why do you want to know?"

Lando shrugs. "She's nice."

"No... She'll be coming to Australia, though..." Carlos can't help but feel suspicion fill his chest. He's always been somewhat protective of you, being his little sister and all.

"Perfect," Lando grins, and he's off.

In Australia, like any other race, you're decked out in your red. Ferrari hat, Ferrari jacket, red jeans. Ferrari earrings. Even your black shoes have a stripe of red on the sides.

Carlos always tells you it's dumb. But it's become a part of your whole thing, since you spend a huge amount of your life following Carlos around and going to Grand Prixs.

It's fun sometimes, being Carlos Sainz Jr.'s sister!

But when you see a shock of papaya in your red world called Ferrari's hospitality, you squint, slipping your sunglasses up on your hat, and say, "Who said you could walk in like that uninvited?"

"No one," Lando grins, "but I'm only here to see you."

Your eyebrows raise as you stand up. "Wha-"

"Come with me. I'm going to barf if I have to breathe Ferrari air any longer. Just your terrible get-up is making me nauseous. I guess I'll be free from seeing that stupid outfit next year when Carlos isn't in Ferrari-"

"Oh, shut it, you!" you snap, but follow him with a grin on your face.

"So you broke up with your Barcelona man?" Lando start, cutting straight to the chase.

"Uh-" you swallow. "He broke up with me."

"Yeah? Why's that?"

You're not sure why Lando wants to know, and he certainly doesn't have any reason to know, but still you say, "We had been dating for a while, you know? I wanted something more. You know, to go deeper. Someday, I'd love to even maybe get married. But, Ferran... well, he didn't want to go the step deeper. Said he wanted to focus on his career. He broke it off. We're on fine terms, though."

"Ah..." he nods slowly. "That sounds like a tough breakup."

"Yeah... Yeah, it was."

He continues nodding, and catches your eye before saying, "So I'm assuming you want to... you know, you won't be up for any more relationships any time soon? Lot to work through?"

You suddenly feel your face begin to heat up. "Uh, well- depends on who it is, I suppose," you blurt without thinking.

"Hm?" He raises an eyebrow. A little smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth. "Well, considering the fact that your face is just about as red as that Ferrari hat on your head, I'm wondering what you think of me."

You swallow, feeling even more embarrassed. "Are you suggesting...?"

"If you're up for it, the night after the Grand Prix, you can meet me at my hotel room, and we'll go from there. Text me if you decide 'yes,' for the details."

"I don't have your numb-"

He gives a cute little smile and opens his hand to reveal a folded up piece of paper. "Now you do. See you later, Miss Sainz!"

You stand, dumbfounded, as he jogs off.

"Oh my God, Carlos! Well done! So well done! Oh my God!" you scream in the midst of your strings of excited swear words, in both Spanish and English. "Did you actually just win the Australian Grand Prix?!"

He grins as he kisses your cheek, patting your back and saying, "Yes, I actually just did."

You hug your older brother tight, resting your head on his shoulder. "Love you. You did amazing. After everything you've been through. You're going to be leaving Ferrari next season and with your surgery and everything and-"

He smiles a bit. "Want to let me go now? Can't squeeze me too tight, remember?"

"So you can drive a race car and win the race, but you're too fragile for me to hug you!" you laugh, but release him from the hug.

He laughs out loud. "Yes, pretty much."

Hours later, you stand in the lit, mostly empty hallway, knocking on the white-painted door. You've change out of your Ferrari red head-to-toe fit, and are now wearing a black t-shirt with the F1 logo in red on the left side, black sweatpants, and your hair held back by a headband.

Lando probably isn't here, you think as you wait. I look so stupid. He doesn't care as much as he acts like he does. He's probably out partying or something. He got a podium. Carlos won. There's no way he's just sitting around in his hotel room-

You look up in surprise as the door clicks and swings open to reveal Lando Norris standing before you.

You beam and say a bit too loud, "Lando!"

He laughs. "Hey..." He's dressed in a white button down, dark blue jeans, and his regular assortment of jewelry. "Want to come in for a bit?"

You nod. "Were you... just out?" you ask slowly.

He chuckles again, plopping down on the sofa. "If I were just out, I wouldn't be looking this neat."

"Oh... Oh?"

"Come on. Sit down next to me," he encourages with a wave of his hand. "Something funny- I've had my eyes on you for a while now."

You look up in somewhat shock. "That's why you're so confident about this?"

"That, and that I'm just the peak of all confidence," he jokes, clearly mocking cockiness.

You roll your eyes.

"But really. I've been flirting with you for a while."

This time your eyes widen. "No way."

"Just little. I knew you were dating that Torres-"

"How?"

He smiles. "Doesn't take much to find out. Anyway, I think you just blocked it out because you were dating someone else. Shows you're a loyal girl."

"Hm..." you nod slowly. "I... I suppose...?"

Suddenly, he takes your hand in his. "So, you like me?"

"I think I have for a while. Like you said- I blocked it out because I was dating someone else." You didn't even know that until now, hearing the words coming from your mouth.

He smirks. "Even better. So..."

"Yeah?" you ask, a little glimmer in your eyes.

"I'd like to know what the hell you're wearing."

Suddenly, your face falls. "Uh- I'm sorry- I- I thought we- Um-"

Lando laughs. "Y/n! I'm teasing!"

"O- Oh!" you laugh nervously.

"I was just thinking... Maybe you'd want to go out and celebrate with me?"

"Oh-" you nod. "Right."

"So, do you want to get changed? I'll text you where we'll meet in a half hour?"

You grin, standing up. "Sounds good."

"See you then."

"Holy fuck, man," are Lando's first words when he sees you. You're wearing sunglasses, a form-fitting sequin shirt, and flattering white jeans.

"What?" you ask anxiously. "Is it too much?"

"Too much? Y/n, you're gorgeous."

You sigh in relief. "Alright good... And- one thing."

"Hm?" Lando asks, an eyebrow raised.

"I don't know if we... could we say we're... that you're my..."

"Partner? Boyfriend?"

You swallow. "Sure. I think... I think I'm good with that. At least for tonight."

He nods.

"But let's not make it clear here. I don't want the way for everyone to find out about this being, you know, by nightclub pictures on the internet."

He smirks a bit, nodding. "Fair enough, then. Let's go."

"Rise and shine! Let's hit the grind, Y/n!" an unfamiliar voice wakes you up.

You roll over to see Lando's handsome face looking down at you. You're in his hotel room, in the one bed. He's all dressed and ready to go, and towering over you, looking like a giddy dog.

You sit up, rubbing your eyes. "I've got a killer headache. What happened last night." You feel disgusting, and wrinkle your nose as you get a whiff of the alcohol scent radiating off of you.

He grins. "I learned that you have no tolerance whatsoever."

You frown. "Unlike you, Norris, I'm not getting drunk all the time! Now, tell me what really happened!"

"Nothing much. Just a lot of fun," he sits down next to you, "and it's a shame that you can't remember any of it." He chuckles a bit, saying, "You got fucking wild. You were more fun though before you got absolutely drunk out of your wits."

"You didn't do anyth-"

"No, no!" he rolls his eyes. "Besides, Carlos was there. I wouldn't dare. You at least remember Carlos, right, being there?"

You roll your eyes. "Yes, of course I do."

"But you really did completely black out? You don't remember anything?"

You swallow nervously. "No... I don't really remember anything... I mean, I guess..." You close your eyes, thinking hard. "Just dancing... music was super loud, but... that's not anything specific. I don't feel well at all now, though..." You start to feel a bit dizzy at the energy you're putting into trying to remember.

You open your eyes and look at Lando.

He smiles. "Well, it was fun, nothing more. Want me to bring you back to your hotel now?"

"Yeah, I guess..." you nod, cradling your head in your hands. "That'd be great..." You see the wine stain on your jeans. You can feel an ache in your ankle. You just need to clean yourself up.

Lando helps you limp to the car, assuring you that you just tripped. Saying your ankle is fine; it'll feel better in a few days' time.

You're not so sure.

As Lando drives, he knows he should tell you the details, like Carlos said.

But it still feels like you'd be better off not knowing at all.

Nine hours before

Though every single one of Lando's molecules in his body told him not to, he had to keep pushing you off. He sat talking away with some other dudes, and you sat his side, drunkenly trying to wrap your arms around him.

You blubbered softly about all kinds of stuff, a strange mixture of being utterly devastated and overly romantic.

Lando knew. You didn't get drunk this often.

A part of him felt bad. A huge part of him. He didn't think he had pressured you into anything. Certainly not intentionally. And you were the one who kept drinking more. But maybe he did...

Maybe it was his fault you were the mess you were now.

"Lando..." you murmured, your hand gripping his bicep. You leaned closer. "You're so sexy in that shirt." You reached over to unbutton another button of his shirt.

He gently pushed you away for the millionth time. "Remember, Y/n? You don't want anyone to know you're into me this much," he whispered lowly to you, running a hand through his hair. "Remember that, baby."

You pouted. "Ferran broke up with me and made me sad. Can't you make me happy now."

"Not now. I won't be doing anything when you're this drunk."

"I'm not that drunk..."

Lando snorted. "Whatever you say, lovely."

All was going as fine as it could be going. But then Carlos showed up. "Hey, Y/n-" he had started.

But you had interrupted him by slapping your hand on Lando's shoulder, leaning into it, and giggling giddily, "Look at this pretty boy."

Immediately, Carlos's eyes flashed with shock. And then vague panic. And then anger.

"Lando, how drunk did you get her?!" he snapped, raising his voice even more than he already was. The flashing lights on the Spanish man's face helped Lando's anxiety no more.

"I didn't get her drunk at all! I tried to stop h-"

"Yeah, fucking right. Come with me Lando-"

"No!" you had snapped, standing up to grab Lando's sleeve before your older brother could drag him away.

You were clearly biting back tears. "Lan didn't do anything..." You stumbled drunkenly into the British man, who steadied you gently, before helping you sit down again.

Carlos's face remained hard and steadied on Lando, but he spoke no words, as if he was battling in his head what to do.

Lando sighed. "Listen, Carlos. She won't remember any of this tomorrow morning. Let's just not bring this up again, yeah? It was a mistake. Stuff happens. She got wild and had one too many. We've all had those nights."

But Lando genuinely didn't think Carlos had had one of those nights before.

Lando certainly had, though.

"She deserves to know."

"Maybe she shouldn't, though. She's gone through a lot with her ex breaking up with her and everything. And I'm sure your career up in the air isn't helping her cause much, either. She loves you more than the world. And think about how worrying it was for her to see you go into surgery like that, and race right afterwards? The good emotions just hit her, man. But it's probably a lot. She's just going through a lot. She doesn't need the guilt of getting too drunk and acting a little stupid, yeah?" Lando ranted, intently studying the older Spaniard's eyes.

Carlos's eyes slowly softened. "Alright... I won't tell her what's happening once she's sober. Only if I can make a deal with you."

Lando bit his lip, running a hand through his messed up hair. "What is it?"

"I won't say a word to her, as long as you promise to stay away from my sister. I know you're interested in her."

Lando's eyebrows creased together. "What does that men? Why?"

"Quit trying to get with my sister, and then it's a done deal."

Lando let out a shaky breath, slowly nodding. "Alright, then. Whatever. It's a done deal."

Of course Lando didn't intend on following through with his end of the deal.

But when Lando turned around to check on you on the couch, he froze when he saw you were gone. "Where'd Y/n go?" he immediately asked the other guys and girls sitting around.

"The hot Spanish girl?" one guy asked in a painfully slow Australian accent.

"Yes, her!" Lando demanded, his buzzed brain filling with irrational panic and overwhelming confusion.

He lazily gestured and responded, "Went to go dance, I reckon."

And before Carlos or anyone else could react any faster, Lando tore into the crowd, shoving people aside and squeezing through gaps that weren't there, in search of you.

She's drunk out of her mind! What the hell was she thinking!

That's right. She wasn't thinking.

And then, he spotted you, just for a moment. Moving your hips, stumbling about, thinking you were just about the sexiest thing in the room.

"Move out of my fucking way," was Lando's polite way of shoving two guys out of the way.

He could see the sweat glistening on your face. He could see the dumb smile on your face, your high giggles. He could see fresh wine spilled on your white jeans. He could see hands on you; he took no energy to see who they connected to as rage filled his entire being.

And he watched, almost in slow motion, as your ankle rolled on your black stiletto, and you stumbled to the floor with a brain rattling, painful cry.

Immediately, Lando shoved his way to your side, slipping his hands under your body. "My God, Y/n!" he nearly screamed over the music. "You idiot! You beautiful, fucking stupid, idiot! Tell me why I fell in love with you! You're going to be the death of me!"

"Hi Lando," you murmured through tears. "My ankle..."

"Yeah, yeah, I see. Let's get you out of here, yeah?"

You swallowed, nodding as Lando tucked your hair behind your ear. He lifted you to your feet and let you lean on him as he helped you limp out of the club.

"I'm sorry, Lando..." you had muttered hoarsely.

"Hey, don't worry," Lando had responded. "Never apologize for having nothing but a good time."

But he, Lando Norris, disagreed with the words coming out of his mouth. That was his motto, his excuse, all the time. But as soon as soon as he saw you, someone he genuinely really loved, really cared about, living like that?

It made him sick to his stomach.

Speaking of that, as soon as you were outside, you stumbled away from Lando. He steadied you with one hand and held your hair back with the other as you doubled over and vomited, your previously red face impossibly pale.

"Are you done?"

"Yeah..." you gasped after about a minute.

"Alright. Okay. Let's get to my hotel room now."

Lando could barely understand your slurred words as you responded, "As long as we're getting away from here."

Now

You were going to go to the Japanese Grand Prix. But you just wanted to stay home. With a sprained ankle that confines you to crutches and an illness you've picked up, there was no way you were going to fly across the world for a Grand Prix, especially with the potential jet lag.

You lay on your couch and text Lando. You've been thinking, and you let him know that though you really do want to go places with him, you want to go slower.

You still don't know what happened on that night in Melbourne. For some reason, you can't get anything of significance out of Carlos or Lando. But you know more than what they're saying must have happened that night.

You asked Charles, because he was there. He provided a bit more information, but not much. He said he wasn't really hanging around you that night, but that he did see you cuddling with Lando.

When you asked Lando about it, he said you were drunk, it was just you not thinking, and it only happened once. That you stopped after he pushed you off.

And social media shows no one caught it on camera, or anything that night, for that matter.

So at least there's no fans going crazy over anything.

Lando texts you back, saying that he thinks it's best to go slow. Just let yourselves ease into whatever your relationship is going to be.

It's a relief to see he agrees with you on that.

But then he sends another text, asking you to try to keep it a secret. Even from your family, including Carlos.

You ask why, and he responds saying he simply agrees it's good to be private, and he doesn't want Carlos judging.

Though you're not sure about it, since Carlos is not only your favorite (only) brother, but also your best friend, you still tentatively agree to it.

Lando probably has a good reason.

Right?

By the time the Chinese Grand Prix comes around, though your foot is still in a walking boot, you're over your illness, and decide you're going to go for it and make the trip halfway across the world. After all, you've never been to China!

It's true that your walking boot doesn't look the best with your shades, shining silver jewelry, and overalls, but oh well. The most annoying part is literally everyone who even half knows your name (the Sainz part) keeps asking you what the hell happened to your ankle.

And you have literally no response but, "I fell," because you have no more of an idea than them, and there's no way you're about to say, 'Hah I just got drunk with Lando and got so fucking crazy that I twisted my ankle and sprained it! Anyway!'

Yeah, no way.

So "I fell," is the best option you have.

But the most concerning thing to you is that you haven't even seen Lando yet, all weekend. Though you haven't seen each other in a while, you've been calling, texting, and face timing often, your relationship growing a lot.

You chew your lip as you limp towards the McLaren garage. You peek in, scanning for Lando, but only see Oscar.

You limp to him.

"Whoa- What happened to your-"

"I fell," you say, thoroughly exasperated with this. "Anyway, is Lando around?"

"Lando? Uhhh..." he looks around.

Dude, hurry up. I'm not supposed to be here, your thoughts practically scream.

But then he walks in himself, and you grin, waving, "Lando!" you call.

He walks over to you, smiling. "Aw. Look at my little injured girlfr- uh, uhm, mate. My injured mate." He glances nervously at Oscar.

But the Australian just smiles, "Don't worry. Your secret is safe with me."

Lando nods gratefully, before leading you to a more private place. "Hey," he says softly once you're alone, his hands resting on your waist. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm alright... Ankle's getting better, slowly but surely."

"Oh, good," he almost looks relieved. "That's so good to hear. I'm so glad you made the big trip to be here, Y/n."

You smile softly. "I was starting to miss you."

He grins. "I was missing you, too, baby... I think I could make some time for you this weekend, too. We could just get take out, hang out at my hotel room, you know. No more partying, even if I win, right?" he teases gently, gesturing to your foot.

You snort. "Yeah. Yeah, no more partying for now for me."

Later that night, you lay next to Lando in his hotel room. His arms are wrapped around you, his hand rubbing your back. "Look at me," he murmurs sleepily.

You look up to see his soft eyes looking at you, with so much, tenderness, so much...

love.

You feel a flutter in your stomach. "Lando, how did we get here?"

"What do you mean?"

"Two months ago, I would lie awake in bed, dreaming about and missing Ferran. I was so lonely. Now here I am. Two months, and I'm laying here, in your arms."

He grins a bit. "I bet it's because we're meant for each other."

"That's cliché."

"No, it's not. I really mean it. You know, I had a crush on you even back when Carlos was in McLaren, you were around a lot more, in papaya."

"No, you didn't-"

"Yes, I did!" he laughs softly. "I really did. The day I saw you in the paddock. The day Carlos pointed you out as his sister. The day you flipped your hair and looked at me with those warm brown eyes. And then looked away from me, because in my first season in McLaren, I was the farthest thing from attractive."

You giggle at this. "You're kidding."

"No, I'm not! That was the day that I knew- I knew- that someday, I was going to make you mine," he murmurs, his eye half-lidded as his hand gently caresses your cheek.

"Lando!" you squeak, wrapping your arms around him in a tight hug. "Don't you dare make me cry for no reason!" You wait a minute, before saying softly, "Well, maybe, just maybe, back then, though you were a pipsqueak, you were kind of cute... And I've always gotten butterflies from your jokes and teasing, even all those years ago, before I was even dating Ferran."

He laughs. "Awww... So you've always had a little bit of a crush on me, too!" You can see by his blushing cheeks and beaming eyes that just this fact is making him feel warm inside.

You roll your eyes, giggling. "I guess, maybe...."

He flicks your nose gently, playfully, holding you even closer. You lay there in more silence, before Lando says softer, even more tenderly, "Hey, Y/n... can I talk to you about something...?"

"Of course, Lando..." Your eyebrows knit together.

You watch as he swallows. Nods. Sighs. "Okay... Something has been bugging me..." He pauses. "I... I feel like I never should have brought you out that night in Australia... you know? Like, beyond the sprained ankle."

Your eyes flash. "What do you mean?"

"Well... You just got so drunk, and... I feel so bad... Like, somehow, it's my fault... I didn't mean for you to get hurt, or to drink that much... I just thought we'd have fun. Like I always do with my friends. And you're my girlfriend; supposed to be my closest friend..."

"Lando," you murmur shakily. "Did you try to get me that drunk? You didn't encourage it, did you?"

He looks nervous. "I genuinely don't think so, but I'm nervous I did... I tried to tell you enough was enough, but maybe I should have looked out for you more... Maybe I should have worked better at keeping you from getting that drunk... But we were having so much fun and I figured you would know your limit... I shouldn't have assumed."

"Lando! Don't blame yourself! It was my fault. I got too drunk, I fell and sprained my ankle. The sentiment of you wanting to look out for me is nice, but when push comes to shove, I'm in charge of myself, just like you're in charge of yourself, and it was my fault. My mistake. M'kay, Lando...?"

He nods slowly, still looking a bit unsure. "Well, Carlos isn't mad at you about it. He's mad at me..."

"Carlos is what?!"

"Ah, fuck. Forget I ever-"

"Lando Norris, explain."

"Whoa, that's sexy," he laughs.

"What?!" you exclaim in exasperation, yet you're still unable to keep your stomach fluttering by Lando's sudden spoken intrusive thought.

He grins, his eyebrows raised. "I don't know. Full name, in such a firm voice? Like, yes, mommy, order me around. I'll do whatever you want me to," he says in a low, goofy, teasing voice.

You can't stop your face from heating up. "Oh, shut it, you!" you snap, your voice cracking awkwardly as you flick him in the nose this time. And you flick his stupid nose harder than he flicked yours earlier.

He giggles evilly, rolling over. "Look at yourself! You liked that! You're a blushing mess!"

"No, I didn't. What a stupid way to flirt."

"Oh, well, I can show you even more stupid ways to flirt. Because, apparently, it doesn't quicken your heart rate at all."

You groan. "You are so annoying."

He leans over, giving you a peck on your lips. "I know. And you know you love me for it."

You forget to ask him again about Carlos.

"Baby, c'mere," Lando says, nodding for you to join him in his driver's room.

"Dude, watch what you call me when there's listening ears around."

Lando shrugs. "It's only Oscar in the other room."

"So? What makes you trust Oscar so much, anyway?"

He shrugs. "I don't know. He's a good guy. And he's not gossipy, like me."

You laugh. "You are, are you?"

"Oh, yeah. I'm a fucking gossip girl."

You laugh out loud at this as Lando shuts the door of his driver's room behind you.

Lando grins. "Anyways, Oscar is trustworthy because he's not the type of guy to have any desire not to keep a secret."

You frown, crossing your arms. "Alright. Whatever. Anyways, why'd you bring me in here?"

Lando shrugs, sitting down on the one chair in the room. "Sit down, babe."

You blink. "Where? On the fricking floor?"

"Uh, no," Lando rolls his eyes jokingly, as if this is the most obvious thing. "On my fricking lap, Y/n. Come on now. Duh."

You can't help but find yourself blush at that as you slip onto his lap. He wraps his hands around your waist, giving you a kiss on the cheek. You smile, leaning into him as you ask softly, "So why'd you bring me in here? Just for kicks?"

He grins. "I need my Y/n fix before the race. You know, it'll make me drive better."

"Oh? Is that how it works?" Suddenly, though, before Lando can respond, your phone buzzes in your pocket. You slip it out and sigh. "It's Carlos, asking me where I am. I feel like I'm under surveillance."

Lando blows a raspberry before saying, "Just ignore it, bae. You're a twenty-four year old woman; Carlos needs to get over it."

"Get over what?" you ask, an eyebrow raised.

"You not being his baby sister anymore. You're my baby now," he murmurs into your shoulder, pulling you closer to himself.

You laugh. "I still can't decide whether you're the worst flirt I've ever met or the smoothest. But right now, I'm thinking the worst."

"Oh, well!" he says, looking up at you with innocent eyes, batting his lashes. "Doesn't matter to me, because either way, you like it! Anyway, back to before Carlitos had to interrupt-"

You giggle as he begins kissing your face and say, "Carlitos? I'm not even allowed to call him that without him going psycho man on me-"

"Mmm... Can you talk less? It's cuter when you do that giggle thing," Lando murmurs between kisses.

This causes you to laugh out loud. "Sometimes, Lando, I think you're so weird." You realize, in a strange way, though, Lando is right. Because of the giddy feeling of literally having your boyfriend shower you with kisses and love, you're just kind of trying to find anything to talk about.

But maybe you should just take one moment to shut up.

You lean into the kisses, exhaling slowly. Contently, despite your pounding heart and sweating neck.

Finally, you feel as though your face is absolutely, completely covered in Lando's kisses. You sigh, contented, as Lando kisses the tip of your nose, and then pecks your lips.

You giggle, opening your eyes to gaze into his.

But his eyes flutter shut as he leans in, his hand slipping to the nape of your neck. And his lips meet yours again, this time in a real kiss. You shut your eyes, enjoying those lips on your own, sending tingles throughout your whole body, causing your breath to grow heavier and heavier. Desire pulses in every beat of your heart, causing the passion in the kiss to build and build. Your right hand falls into his chest as the other knits itself in his curly locks. You feel Lando's hand on your hip as his fingers snake under to grip your ass gently. You can feel his hot breath on you, in you, apart of you, as his other hand gently stroking your neck, giving you little twitches of longing for more. Your tongues find an art of lingering exploration, Lando's hunger seeming to never be satisfied as his tongue and lips tease your nerves, the emotional and physical connections between you seeming stronger than ever. His hand slides down your neck to your back, pulling you closer to him, so your chests are pressed into one another.

Suddenly, though, there's a pounding on the door of Lando's driver's room. Your eye cracks open. Lando's squeeze tighter shut, his eyebrows creasing together, as if he wishes so much that this never has to end.

Lando grunts, finally pulling away. Oscar's voice on the other side of the door saying Lando's name seems to be in another, insignificant world. You're both gasping as you study each other's eyes in a certain awe.

A soft, mischievous smirk appears on Lando's lips. Those lips that now you can't stop staring at. "Was your first kiss with Torres that hot?"

You let out a breathy laugh. "Definitely not."

There's a pause, of just softly smiling, gazing into each other's eyes, before Lando breathes, his eyes half-lidded, "My fucking God," He gently, slowly strokes your warm, pink cheek. "Did I ever tell you how head over heels I am for you?"

Before you can respond, Oscar's voice says again from outside, "Lando, if you don't respond, soon, I'm coming in."

Lando groans again, leaning his head back, "You can't! The door's locked!" He then adds under his breath, "Fucking Osc, interrupting as soon as I was going to take it to the next step."

At this, you blush even deeper. "You were-"

Lando waves his hand dismissively. "I would have checked with you first."

You nod, breathing deeply.

"Alright, baby," he sighs, running a hand through his hair, ruffling it up a bit. "Let's go see what the hell Oscar wants."

When the door swings open, Oscar can't help but chuckle how how much, in that moment, you two look like some snarky super villian duo, about to give him some cheesy monologue. You both stand, arms crossed, practically back to back. Lando wears a scornful grin and you display a glare as hard as stone. Even your clothes- Lando's racing clothes and your head-to-toe Ferrari red, finish off the silly look.

"What's so funny?" you demand upon seeing the Australian's laughter.

"Nothing, nothing. But I hope you guys know: These walls are not soundproof."

"What are you suggesting?" Lando snaps. "You couldn't have possibly heard anything, you idiot!"

"Whoa, whoa! I didn't! I'm just saying!" Oscar says, going on the defensive, putting both hands up. "Me and my girlfriend don't lock ourselves in my driver's room before the race, losing track of time and forcing you to go get us!"

"You and your girlfriend are probably going to buy a house with a white picket fence and have 2.5 children and a golden lab! Oscar and Lily is bad enough, but I'm surprised it's not John and Emily!"

"Whoa," Lando says, laughing as you walk out of the driver's room together and he shuts the door. "Shots fired. Calm down, Y/n; jeez."

But Oscar's laughing, too, so you know there's no need to apologize.

"Lan... You know I wasn't kidding earlier when I said I won't go out, right?" you say nervously as you walk into his hotel room, rolling your suitcase from your own hotel room.

"Yeah, I know you weren't. I wasn't kidding, either."

"So... What?" you ask, sitting down on the edge of his bed, crossing your arms. "You're planning on going alone? Then why did you bring me to your hotel room-"

"Y/n," he suddenly says, leaning down to gently grab your chin and look you directly in your eyes. "I'm not going anywhere tonight. I'm staying right here."

Your jaw actually drops. "I'm sorry, but who are you and what have you done with Lando Norris? Because that man would never miss an opportunity to party."

This makes Lando let go of you and break into a fit of laughter. "Y/n!" he breathes. "What the hell are you talking about? Before that, I would never miss an opportunity to spend time with you."

You stare. "Okay, actually. I'm being serious now. What did you do with Lando?"

You watch as your boyfriend chuckles, sitting down next to you. "Baby. I'm not going to go out clubbing while you sit in a hotel room alone. And there's no way I'm taking you out again; my guilty conscience can't take that, and neither can your sprained ankle. So why not celebrate P2 here, just you and I, hm?" he says in a low tone.

Immediately, at this suggestion, you blush. "Oh, uh, Lando... I, uh... I don't know if I'm ready for something... you know... for that... right now... Not yet... You know, it's too early for me in our relationsh-"

Lando suddenly breaks into laughter again. Oh, that sweet, silly sound. "Y/n! My God, what a dirty mind you have! I wasn't thinking that at all-!"

"You, Lando Norris, are saying I have a dirty mind?! I bet you really are his doppelganger!"

He crosses his arms. "Only reason why I wouldn't suggest that is because I know you're not ready. Which is more than one hundred percent fine with me. I wasn't even thinking about that, anyway."

"What were you thinking, then?"

He smiles with his eyes. "Well, let's both get ready for bed," he begins pulling his shirt off over his head as you absolutely bear your eyes into him, "And once we're both ready, I'll meet you back... here...?" His confused face slowly turns to one of teasing nature when he sees your eyes trained intently on his bare chest. His perfectly toned abs. His perfectly shaped pecs. His strong, straight, tan back. The little brown beauty marks sprinkled all over his torso. You would love to kiss every single one of them. "Why don't you take a picture?" he smirks stupidly. "That way, it'll last longer."

"Oh, shut up," you murmur, licking your lips as you tear your eyes away from his bare middle. "You can shower first," you murmur.

Once you're both all clean and ready, you snuggle up under the blankets, only to find your arm brushing against Lando's bare skin.

You feel your heart flutter as you murmur, "Are you not wearing a shirt just to bother me?"

"What, no," Lando says, overly innocently. "I never wear a shirt to bed. Just like I'm sure you never wear a bra...?"

If you were embarrassed before, now it's ten times worse. You specifically decided to wear a bra, to avoid... that. And now here Lando is, bringing it up like it's the weather.

"Uh..." you begin.

"Anyway!" Lando says, apparently seeing the vaguely panicked look in your eyes. "Wanna just watch a show or something?"

"Yeah," you nod. "That sounds good."

Lando turns some stupid show on his laptop, and as you snuggle and it gets later, you become more relaxed. You lean your head on Lando's shoulder as he plays with strands of your smooth, wet, dark hair. Your hands begin softly feeling his chest, just drawing circles and feeling the shapes of his abs.

Everyday, you seem to get to know Lando more and more- inside and out.

He sighs, contented, and murmurs sleepily, "That feels nice."

You smile, nuzzling into him.

"I saw Barcelona and Madrid played today," he comments as your fingers continue stroking the abs under Lando's soft skin.

"Yeah... El Clásico..."

"You don't sound as excited as I thought you would. I thought you were big on Madrid."

"Yeah, I am... Just having been keeping up with La Liga lately, I guess."

"Hm... Well, would you like it if I could find some way to watch the game...?"

You smile softly. "Hm. Yeah, maybe that wouldn't be so bad..."

Lando nods, and soon, you're cuddled up with your boyfriend, watching your favorite team play against FC Barcelona/your ex's team.

It feels weird, but you like it.

You decide your bra isn't very comfy and slip it off under your shirt before tossing it across the room.

"You're finally over being embarrassed with me?" Lando teases.

You smile softly, shutting your eyes. "At least for now. Too sleepy to care."

He smiles back. "You're cute when you're sleepy. Cuter."

Soon, though, Lando is gently shaking you, murmuring, "Look. Your ex was subbed on."

"Hmmm? What about Fer?" you murmur with a yawn. You must have dozed off for a bit.

"Fer?" Lando asks, his nose scrunching up. "Yeah, Ferran Torres."

Your eyes flutter open to see your ex-boyfriend running onto the pitch. You feel a sudden, unexpected pang in your chest. When you and Ferran were still together, you watched him do that so many time, with a sense of pride and excitement.

But now, you don't feel much at all. It's no different from anyone else going out there to play.

But, like a train, memories of the past begin to hit you.

Going for walks with him. Cheering him on at finals. Hanging out with his teammates. Working out with him. Bringing him to the Barcelona Grand Prix. Exchanging gifts on birthdays and holidays.

Just all the little things you used to do.

Like snuggling with each other on late nights after Barcelona won.

Not unlike what you and Lando are doing right now.

Suddenly Lando's arm around you tightens, and he says, "You okay?"

"I- yeah..."

Lando leans forward to see you face. You try to turn it away. Lando doesn't let you.

You stare into each other's eyes.

"You're crying," he states softly.

"I guess..." you trail off, averting your eyes.

There's a few beats of silence before Lando states again, "You still miss him."

"I guess..." you repeat. "But... I'm happy to be with you... it just all happened so quick... It's a lot for me... I'm mostly over it- over him- by now, but sometimes things just... make me start to think. Reminsce of what's not anymore."

Lando slowly nods, and begins rubbing your shoulder. "I- Alright..."

"But don't worry. I'm way more happy to be with you right now than sad to not be with Ferran any longer."

"You're sure?" the Brit asks tentatively.

You nod, leaning into him once more. "I'm sure. One hundred and one percent."

"Hey, Lando," you grin giddily before the Miami Grand Prix. "Just drive your best out there, okay? Good luck, baby." You give him a high-five. You can sense he wants to give you a hug, but painfully knows he can't because of the ever-watching cameras and eyes all around you.

But he leans in close, until you can practically feel his breath on your face, and says softly, in just about the most heart-wrenching-in-a-good-way low voice, "Oh, baby... I'm going to go out there and win that race. For you."

"Oh, stop being such a romantic. You're going to make me cry."

He leans in, about to kiss your cheek, but you gently push him off, saying, "You better get going, Lan! Race is going to start soon!"

"Right! Bye bye, bab-"

"BYE!" you scream to overpower his stupid 'baby girl.'

And before you can even blink twice, it seems-

It's lights out....

And away we go!

"LANDO! FUCKIN'! NORRIS!" you scream as soon as you see him, running to him as fast as you can. Your eyes threaten to fill over their brims with tears as you leap into Lando's arms, immediately forgetting about hiding your relationship.

Right now, that just seems too silly to care about. It doesn't matter enough.

Your boyfriend is a race winner.

The racer winner!

He leans back with the most joyful, most romantic, most adrenaline filled, most glorious look in his eyes as they search yours. His hand slowly strokes your cheeks as he purrs, "I told you I would win it for you, didn't I?"

"Lando-" you begin in excitement, but are interrupted by Lando's lips on yours, aggressively, passionately leaning into yours, flooding all his emotions into you, sharing his dream coming true with you.

For some reason, you begin to cry. Flows of tears, flooding down your cheeks as you kiss each other, and your heart pounds at a million kilometres an hour. His hands grip your waist tight, and the moment-

It all seems so perfect.

Right now, you don't care about the fact it was supposed to be secret. You don't care about what Carlos will think or say or do, or what fans on social media will post. None of it matters.

In this moment, the only two people that matter are you and Lando, in a symphony of amorousness, standing on the top of the world.

In this moment, you and Lando, both in sync, know this is the right time. Though it's been merely three months of being in a real, serious relationship, it feels like several lifetimes.

You don't care about the shock of other people, or the cameras flashing and clicking and filming.

All the sudden, you're proud of it.

You want everyone to know, no matter how they'll react, that you're Lando's, and Lando is yours.

When you finally break away from each other, Lando's smile remains as he gazes into your eyes.

"Are you crying too?" you giggle softly as you spot a glint in his eyes.

"What? Me, crying? No, I'm not crying! Of course I'm not crying!" he says teasingly, hastily wiping at his eye with his thumb. "You're the one crying! But anyway-" He slips the papaya McLaren cap off his head and plops it on yours, saying, "Won't be needing this for the top step. Besides," he smirks, leaning in closer. "Enough with all this Ferrari stuff. I think it's finally time for you to admit: Papaya looks best on you. Papaya's your color."

As you watch him jog off after that, stunned, you feel pleased.

Finally, for once, content.

That's right. My color isn't white, or blaugrana. It's not Ferrari's red, either.

I'm a papaya girl.

His papaya girl.

[apollosdaydreams]

Viva Las Vegas!

Max Verstappen x Reader

Warnings: smut 18+, dom! Max, Sub! Reader, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), swearing. Sorry if the Dutch is wrong I used a translator.

Author's note: I'm still pretty new to writing smut, so I hope this came out fine!

Summary: after Max won his fourth world championship joining Juan Manusel Fangio, Alain Prost, Michael Schumacher, Sebastian Vettel and Lewis Hamilton. Meaning you and Max have a long night of celebrating this incredible win.

Max and you stumbled into your shared hotel room, Max pushed you up against the door, one hand on your hip while the other locked the door behind you. Kissing his neck while playing with the ends of his hair close to his neck, he groaned, pushing his hips harder on to yours.

“Wees geen plagerij” he growled in your ear. “Jump..” he whispered.

(Don’t be a tease)

You jumped slightly, your legs wrapping around his waist, his hands coming to hold you up by your ass. Walking over to the bed so he could lay you down on it. You made your way up to the pillows, looking up at Max with a smile.

“You're being slow Max.” You whined.

He cocked an eyebrow. “Me? Slow? I’ll show you slow sweetheart.” he breathed. He then went for the button of your shorts, unbuttoning them and pulling down the zipper, slowly he pulled down your shorts. Making his way back up to you he kissed your soft thighs, getting closer and closer to where you wanted him the most. He skipped over where you wanted him the most, pushing up your top and kissing your stomach, lifting your shirt over your head.

You whined. “Please, Max, please I need you.” You begged, grinding your hips up into his, chasing a release.

Max couldn't help but let out a small laugh. “Begging for it now, needy little thing.” He whispered into your ear, moving down to kiss your neck. Reaching behind you to unclasp your bra, and throwing it somewhere in the room, kissing down your stomach, he stopped right above your painty line. Looking up at you and smiling, then reaching up to take it off. You lifted your hips to help him take off your painties.

“So fucking needy liefde….” Max whispered.

(love)

“Shut the fuck up and fuck me Verstappen…”

“Don’t need to tell me twice.” Max said while quickly pulling down his jeans and boxers, and unbuttoning his white shirt, throwing it with the other articles of clothes that were now thrown about the room.

Max then flipped you over, so Max was laying on the bed and you were on top of him. His hands holding your hips, you slightly moved upwards and Max grabbed his cock to help you line it up with you. You slowly sank down on him, moaning as you did. Max couldn't help himself but moan with you, grabbing your hips harder.

“Oh god, y/n, you feel so good….” He moaned out, his head leaning back on to the pillows behind him, and closing his eyes. You then began to bounce on his lap, setting the pace, Max then began to help you, gripping your hips and moving you up and down. You moaned.

“Oh.. max, please, i- please…” you said, not really knowing what you were saying please for.

“Please what?” he said cockly, still moving you up and down against him.

“Harder, I- I need harder, please Max…” you whispered.

Max growled slowly, flipping you back so you were laying on the bed. He then began to fuck you harder, one hand on the bes next to your head, while the other was now on your clit.

Max’s pace never slowed, I guess being a high performance athlete helped.

“Max…. I'm close… dont stop, please don't stop.” you begged.

“Hmmm I'm close, too liefde.” He whispered into your ear, still never slowing down his pace.

You could feel your lower stomach begin to tighten. Mumbling something incorrectly, but max didn't care, all he cared about was making you feel good, and making you cum before himself. You then felt the knot in your stomach become undone, moaning out Max’s name as you came. Almost getting no time to breathe as Max finished right after you. He fell down next to you, both of you breathing heavily.

“God i fucking love you y/n.” He said, begging to kiss the side of your neck.

^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^

You woke up to the sun peaking through the window, you slowly opened your eyes, to see that Max was still asleep behind you, his arm laying over you. You let out a long breath enjoying the quiet morning, but you couldn't help but feel the small ache between your legs, from last night's activities. Before you know it Max had woken up, kissing the skin on the back of your neck.

“Good morning schatje…”

(sweetheart)

“Morning Max…” you mumbled as you turned around so your face could be in his chest.

Max couldn't help but chuckle. “So how many times did I make you cum last night?” He asked smugly.

You rolled your eyes. “”Four times, for each championship you won.” you said.

Max pulled you in closer. “I think I could make you cum 4 more times, don't you think?”

You laughed. “Yeah no, my pussy needs a break from your abuse.”

Max fake frowned at you. “Fine, I'll give you a short break, then make you cum four more times.” He said with a smile.

“God Max, you are so annoying. You said, rolling your eyes at the Dutch.

“But you love it.” He winked.

You smiled up at him. “I guess you're right.” You said kissing his lips. “I'm so proud of you Max…”

^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^

It would be greatly appreciated if you could reblog!! 💙

© 2024 on tumblr apollosdaydreams do not translate/remake/repost my works on any platform without authorized permission.

[wethotcrazy]

Buona Fortuna

pairing: Mercedes F1 Team! Kimi Antonelli x F1 Academy Driver! Reader

word count: 5500

trying out some new stuff, but chat i fear i cooked a little too hard. also if you like this tell me (i might make more parts to it), and sorry for the sudden change i just wanted it to be all in one part instead of two.

The Mercedes F1 hospitality area was nearly empty at 11 PM, save for two figures huddled at a corner table. Kimi Antonelli, still in his team polo despite the late hour, sat across from Y/N, who was surrounded by engineering textbooks and a laptop displaying race telemetry data.

"You know," Kimi said, sliding a fresh cup of coffee toward her, "most people would think I'm crazy for spending my free evening watching someone study thermodynamics."

Y/N looked up from her calculations, offering a tired but genuine smile. "Most people would think I'm crazy for studying thermodynamics between F1 Academy practice sessions."

"That's why you're you," he replied with a soft smile, a familiar warmth of admiration in his voice.

Their friendship had always been like this – comfortable silences, shared understanding, and mutual support that went beyond their racing careers. It started back in their Prema days when they were both trying to navigate the delicate balance between racing and high school.

While Kimi had treated academics as a necessary obligation, Y/N approached it with the same passion she showed on track. He remembered watching her in awe as she'd switch seamlessly between analyzing racing lines and solving calculus problems during their breaks.

"How do you not get burned out?" he'd asked her once during their Prema days.

"Because I love both," she'd answered simply. "The racing helps me understand the physics, and the physics helps me understand the racing. They're not separate things in my mind."

That response had stuck with him, reshaping his own approach to racing. While he might not share her enthusiasm for academic pursuits, her words had taught him that true excellence came from understanding every aspect of what you do.

Now, a couple of years later, he found himself gravitating toward her study sessions whenever their racing schedules aligned. Sometimes he'd ask questions about the engineering concepts she was learning, genuinely curious about how they applied to their cars. Other times, like tonight, he'd simply keep her company, finding inspiration in her unwavering focus.

"Remember when you posted that congratulations message when we  graduated?" Y/N asked suddenly, looking up from her textbook.

Kimi grinned. "How could I forget? 'Proudest teammate award goes to @KimiAntonelli,'" he quoted the replies that had flooded in. "I meant every word of it, you know. Still do."

"You always have been supportive," she laughed, but her eyes showed deep appreciation.

"You know, I joke about you being a nerd all the time, but..." he paused, gathering his thoughts. "Watching you excel in both worlds, it made me realize I wasn't pushing myself hard enough in some areas. When I'm tired after a long day of practice and all I want to do is sleep, I think about you studying after equally long days. It makes me want to be better, to understand more, to push harder."

Y/N set down her pencil, touched by his honesty. "Kimi..."

"I mean it," he continued. "Everyone in F1 asks me about my rapid rise through the ranks, but they don't see what I see. They don't see my friend who's working twice as hard, not just winning races but understanding the very science that makes these cars work."

A comfortable silence fell between them as Y/N returned to her studies and Kimi started reviewing his own race data on his tablet. This had become their routine whenever their race weekends coincided – her studying, him working, occasionally breaking the silence to share thoughts or ask questions.

"Another win for Y/N L/N!" the commentator announced as she crossed the finish line. "The F1 Academy sensation continues to dominate while pursuing her mechanical engineering degree..."

After Y/N won her F1 Academy race, Kimi was the first to reach her in parc fermé. As they hugged in celebration, he whispered, "You always make it look so easy."

She laughed against his shoulder. "Nothing about this is easy."

"That's what makes it impressive," he replied, pulling back to look at her. "And don't worry – I saved you a spot in the hospitality area. You've got that fluid dynamics test to study for, right?"

"You're not sick of being my study buddy yet?"

Kimi's expression softened. "Never. Besides," he added with a playful grin, "how else am I going to learn why my car does what it does? My engineers would be proud of how much engineering I've absorbed just from listening to you study."

That evening, as they settled into their usual spot, Kimi watched Y/N dive straight into her studies despite the exhaustion of race day. Her dedication wasn't just about achieving good grades or winning races – it was about pursuing excellence in everything she did. And while he might joke about her being his inspiration, the truth was far deeper than any joke could convey.

Because in Y/N, Kimi saw what true passion looked like. It wasn't just about being fast on track or smart in class – it was about the relentless pursuit of understanding, the dedication to growth, and the courage to chase multiple dreams at once. Her drive pushed him to be better, to learn more, to dig deeper into his own craft.

"Hey," he said suddenly, making her look up from her books. "I know I tease a lot, but you really are an inspiration. Not just to me, I know so many others out there that really look up to you."

Y/N's face softened into a smile. "And you're the best study buddy a racing driver could ask for."

"Even though I still don't understand half of what you're studying?"

"Especially because of that," she laughed. "Your confused face keeps me entertained during the boring parts."

As they settled back into their comfortable routine – Y/N with her studies, Kimi with his race notes – he couldn't help but smile. Some might find it strange that a Formula 1 driver chose to spend his free time watching his friend study engineering, but to Kimi, these quiet moments were as valuable as any time spent on track.

Because it was in these moments that he was reminded of what real dedication looked like, what true passion meant, and how the pursuit of excellence in one area could inspire growth in another. Y/N might joke about him being her study buddy, but in truth, she was teaching him something far more valuable than engineering principles – she was showing him what it meant to never stop pushing, learning, and growing.

And that, more than any podium or pole position, was why his admiration for her only grew stronger with each passing day.

The Mercedes garage buzzed with pre-qualifying preparations, but Kimi's eyes were fixed on his phone screen, watching Y/N's F1 Academy race. He was supposed to be reviewing track data, but he couldn't help himself – her racing style had always captivated him.

"Antonelli!" Ollie Bearman's voice cut through his concentration as his friend poked his head into the Mercedes garage, Haas race suit tied around his waist. "Let me guess – watching Y/N's race?"

Kimi didn't even bother hiding his phone. "She's in P2, fighting for the lead."

"When are you going to admit you're in love with her?" Ollie teased, settling beside him to watch.

"I'm not—" Kimi started to protest, but his words were cut short as Y/N executed a perfect overtake into Turn 1. His involuntary smile said more than any denial could.

"Sure, sure," Ollie laughed. "You've only been like this since our Prema days. 'Y/N's so dedicated,'" he mimicked. "'She's so inspiring. Did you know she got another perfect score?'"

Kimi felt his cheeks warm. "She's my friend."

"A friend you can't take your eyes off of," Ollie pointed out. "A friend whose races you watch while you should be prepping for quali. A friend who—"

"She's through! She's won!" Kimi interrupted, jumping slightly in his seat as Y/N crossed the finish line. Without thinking, he immediately opened his messages.

Kimi: Incredible drive! That move into T1 was pure class. Good luck with studying later - FaceTime after quali? Need to hear all about that overtake 👊

Her reply came quickly:

Y/N: Thanks Kimi! 🏆 Those racing lines finally making sense 😂 Absolutely yes to FaceTime - I'll be watching your quali! Show them how it's done ❤️

The heart emoji made his own heart skip a beat, though he tried to ignore it. His phone buzzed again:

Ollie: I saw that smile when she texted back. You're not fooling anyone 😏

Kimi rolled his eyes, but couldn't completely suppress his grin. His race engineer called him for the final quali briefing, and he forced himself to focus on the task at hand. Yet as he slipped into his race suit, he found himself thinking about how Y/N would be watching.

The qualifying session was intense, but knowing Y/N was watching somehow made him push even harder. As he crossed the line to secure P3 in Q3, he could almost hear her cheering.

The moment he parked in parc fermé, he was pulling out his phone, FaceTiming Y/N while walking to his media obligations.

Her face appeared on screen, beaming with pride. "P3! Kimi, that last sector was incredible!"

"Not as incredible as your overtake earlier," he replied, unable to stop smiling. She was sitting at her desk, engineering textbooks already spread out around her, hair still damp from her own podium celebration.

"Are you seriously doing this interview while FaceTiming?" she laughed as he positioned himself for the post-quali interviews.

"You're more important," he said without thinking, then quickly added, "Besides, you can help me with the technical questions about car balance."

A Sky Sports reporter approached, amused to find him on FaceTime. "Kimi, fantastic qualifying! Who are you talking to?"

"Y/N L/N," he answered proudly, turning his phone to show her. "She just won her F1 Academy race today."

"Kimi!" Y/N protested, embarrassed by the attention, but he could see her trying not to smile.

The reporter, well aware of their friendship, played along. "Any advice for him, Y/N?"

"Remember what I taught you about apex speeds," she teased. "It's just like solving differential equations – all about finding the optimal solution."

Kimi laughed, his expression softening in a way that made Ollie, watching from nearby, shaking his head knowingly. "Always the engineer, even on race day."

As he moved through his media obligations, he kept Y/N on the call, their easy banter and shared joy making the tedious process enjoyable. She occasionally chimed in with technical insights that actually impressed the journalists, making Kimi's chest swell with pride.

"You should be studying," he finally said, once he was heading back to the team motorhome.

"I am studying," she protested, holding up her thermodynamics textbook. "I'm just also watching my favorite Mercedes driver crush it in quali."

"I'm the only Mercedes driver you know personally," he pointed out.

"Still my favorite," she winked, and Kimi felt that familiar warmth spread through his chest.

Maybe Ollie was right. Maybe these feelings went beyond admiration and friendship. Maybe the way his day felt brighter when she smiled, the way he looked forward to their study sessions, the way he felt proud of her achievements as if they were his own – maybe it all meant something more.

But for now, he was content to walk through the paddock, phone in hand, listening to Y/N explain her winning overtake while flipping through engineering notes. In that moment, with hundreds of miles between them but their connection as strong as ever, Kimi realized that some feelings didn't need to be admitted out loud to be real.

"Hey," Y/N's voice softened. "You went quiet. What are you thinking about?"

Kimi smiled, watching her juggle her textbook while trying to maintain eye contact through the camera. "Just thinking about how lucky I am to have you in my corner, even when we're racing so far apart."

Her expression melted into something tender that made his heart race faster than any qualifying lap. "Always, Kimi. We're a team, remember? Even when we're not teammates anymore."

And if Ollie happened to catch him later that night, still on FaceTime with Y/N as she studied and he reviewed race data, both of them fighting sleep just to stay connected a little longer – well, maybe his friend wasn't completely wrong about those feelings after all.

The F1 social media landscape exploded one Tuesday morning when Prema Racing announced their 2025 Formula 2 lineup. Among the names was Y/N L/N, making history as she stepped up from F1 Academy after a dominant season.

Within minutes, Kimi's notification feed was flooded as fans tagged him in the announcement. He didn't hesitate to share his excitement:

@KimiAntonelli: From studying engineering between races to fighting for the F2 championship - this is what dedication looks like! So proud of you @YN_LN! Time to show F2 what you're made of! 🏎️📚

The tweet quickly went viral, but it wasn't just the announcement that caught fans' attention. Within hours, racing fan accounts began sharing compilation videos:

"KIMI AND Y/N: FROM PREMA TO F1/F2 🥺❤️ (a thread)"

The first video showed them as young teenagers at Prema, Kimi helping Y/N carry her textbooks to the engineering room while she explained race strategy concepts. Another clip featured their podium celebrations, where they'd always find each other first for a congratulatory hug.

@F1Moments: "The way Kimi BEAMS when talking about Y/N's achievements? We're not okay 😭❤️"

The clip showed various interviews where Kimi praised Y/N:

"She's not just fast on track, she understands these cars like an engineer..."

"While we're all focused on racing, she's getting perfect grades in mechanical engineering..."

"Y/N shows that with enough passion, you can excel at anything..."

@MotorsportEdits had created a masterpiece: a split-screen montage of their parallel journeys. On one side, Kimi's rise through the ranks to Mercedes F1; on the other, Y/N dominating F1 Academy while pursuing her degree. The video ended with their recent FaceTime sessions during Kimi’s post-quali interview, Kimi turning his phone to face the Sky Sports camera.

#KimiAndYN started trending on racing Twitter.

@RacingNews: "Remember when Kimi brought his phone to post-quali interviews just to stay on FaceTime with Y/N? 🥺"

@F1Academy: "From study buddies to racing's power duo! Congratulations to our champion @YN_LN on her promotion to F2!"

Quote tweeted by @MercedesAMGF1: "Our boy @KimiAntonelli's biggest cheerleader is moving up to F2! 🙌 #KimiAndYN"

The social media storm reached new heights when an old video surfaced from their Prema days:

"Can someone please explain the physics behind this overtake?" Kimi asked in the clip, while Y/N drew diagrams and equations on a whiteboard, both still in their race suits.

"Every time I explain physics, you somehow turn it into a racing question," Y/N laughed in the video.

"Because you make it make sense!" young Kimi protested.

@PremaRacing decided to join the fun, sharing a collection of photos: "Buona fortuna e buon viaggio! #KimiAndYN"

The photos showed their journey: studying together between practice sessions, celebrating podiums, Kimi and Y/N's high school graduation, Y/N watching Kimi's first F1 test from the pitwall while highlighting her engineering notes.

Ollie couldn't resist commenting:

@OllieBearman: "If I had a euro for every time @KimiAntonelli talked about @YN_LN during our Prema days, I'd be richer than Lewis Hamilton 😂"

Y/N finally responded to the chaos with a photo of her and Kimi from their Prema days, both asleep in the engineering room, textbooks and data sheets scattered around them:

@YN_LN: "Some things never change ❤️ Thanks for always believing in me @KimiAntonelli! 📚🏎️"

Kimi's heart skipped when he saw her post. He was in the Mercedes simulator when his phone exploded with notifications, but he immediately took a break to respond:

@KimiAntonelli: "From helping me understand physics to making history in motorsport. Proud doesn't even begin to cover it. Can't wait to share the paddock with you again ❤️"

Later that evening, during their regular FaceTime call, Y/N couldn't stop laughing about the social media storm.

"Have you seen the edits? They found clips I didn't even know existed!"

Kimi grinned, watching her sort through her F2 contract papers while simultaneously organizing her study materials. "My favorite is the compilation of every time I've talked about you in interviews. Apparently, I'm not subtle."

"When have you ever been?" she teased. "Remember when you brought me up during your first F1 press conference?"

"Because they asked about inspiration! And you're..." he paused, his expression softening, "you're the most inspiring person I know."

Y/N's cheeks turned pink. "Keep saying things like that and these fans might get ideas."

"Let them," Kimi said softly, watching her juggle her racing dreams and academic pursuits with the same grace she'd always had. "They're not entirely wrong."

The hashtag #KimiAndYN continued trending well into the night, with fans sharing more memories, creating new edits, and celebrating their journey. But for Kimi and Y/N, it was just another evening of FaceTime study sessions and race discussions, their bond stronger than any trending topic could capture.

@F1Community: "Find someone who looks at you the way Kimi looks at Y/N when she's explaining engineering concepts 😍 #KimiAndYN"

Attached was a recent photo from the paddock: Kimi leaning over Y/N's laptop, completely absorbed as she explained some complex engineering principle, his expression a perfect blend of admiration, affection, and awe.

Some things really never did change.

The Italian summer sun painted long shadows across the Antonelli family's garden as Kimi watched Y/N from the kitchen window. She was curled up in her favorite spot on the outdoor sofa, engineering textbook balanced on her knees, hair gathered in a claw clip. Even on break, some things never changed.

Last summer had been at her family's house – he smiled remembering how her mom had fussed over both of them, making sure they took actual breaks from racing and studying. This year, it was his family's turn to host, and his mother was equally determined to fatten them both up with endless servings of homemade pasta.

"She's still studying?" his mother asked in Italian, appearing beside him with fresh bread for dinner.

"Always," Kimi replied fondly. "But watch this."

He grabbed two glasses of fresh lemonade and headed out to the garden. The moment he sat beside her, Y/N automatically shifted, making space while never taking her eyes off her thermodynamics equations. It was a practiced movement, born from countless study sessions across years of friendship.

"Mum's making that pasta you love," he said, setting her lemonade within reach.

"The one with the pistachio pesto?" Y/N looked up, eyes brightening.

"Of course. She says you're too skinny from all this studying."

Y/N laughed, finally closing her book. "Between your mom and mine, we're never going to go hungry during these summer breaks."

It had become their tradition, these shared summers. Between the chaos of the racing season and now Y/N's university schedule, these precious weeks were their chance to just... be. No pressure, no cameras, no podiums to chase – just them, family, and the Italian summer stretching endlessly ahead.

"Remember last summer when your dad tried to teach me proper Italian, Tuscan?" Kimi asked, settling deeper into the sofa.

"And you kept mixing up your words?" Y/N grinned. "And the look on his face…"

"Hey, I've improved! Besides, you're one to talk – you still use engineering terms in Italian."

"That's different! Those are technical terms!"

Their laughter mingled with the sound of cicadas and the distant clatter of dishes from the kitchen. Y/N's textbook lay forgotten as she tucked her feet under herself, turning to face him fully.

"I love this," she said softly. "How even with everything changing – you in F1, me heading to F2, all the craziness – we still have this."

Kimi's heart warmed at her words. He knew what she meant. These moments were precious: the quiet afternoons studying, the family dinners where their parents swapped embarrassing stories about their karting days, the late-night gelato runs in his dad's old Fiat.

"You know," he said, watching the sunset paint her face in golden hues, "I was thinking about our first summer together, back in Prema. Remember how you made me help you study for physics?"

"You mean how you used every physics problem as an excuse to analyze race strategy?" she teased.

"It worked, didn't it? I understood downforce better after your explanations."

Y/N smiled, reaching for her lemonade. "And now look at us. You're living our F1 dream early, and I'm..."

"Being absolutely incredible," he finished firmly. "Racing, engineering degree, and still finding time to spend summers with me and my crazy family."

"Your family is my family too, you know that. Plus," she added with a mischievous grin, "your mum's cooking alone is worth the trip."

As if on cue, his mother's voice called from the kitchen: "Bambini! Dinner!"

They shared a look – they were hardly children anymore, but to their families, they'd always be those two kids from Prema, dreaming big dreams between study sessions.

"Five more minutes!" Kimi called back, not ready to break this moment.

Y/N leaned her head against his shoulder, a gesture so natural it made his heart ache with familiarity. "Your mom's going to come get us out here if we're late."

"Worth it," he murmured, watching the last rays of sunlight fade. "Besides, you need a break from studying."

"Says the one who spent three hours analyzing race data this morning."

"That's different!"

"How?"

"Because..." he paused, smiling. "Okay, maybe we're both workaholics."

"Maybe that's why this works," Y/N said softly. "We understand each other's drive."

The garden was growing darker, fairy lights automatically twinkling to life along the pergola. From the kitchen came the warm sounds of family life – his mother singing along to the radio, his father setting the table, the rich aroma of dinner wafting through the air.

"Ragazzi!" his mother called again, more insistent this time.

Y/N laughed, standing and offering him her hand. "Come on, before we get in trouble."

Kimi took her hand, but didn't immediately get up, just holding it for a moment. "Thanks for choosing to spend summer here again."

"Always," she squeezed his hand. "Where else would I want to be?"

As they walked toward the house, Y/N's textbook tucked under one arm and their empty glasses in hand, Kimi felt that familiar surge of gratitude. For all their success on track, for all their dreams coming true, it was these moments he treasured most – the quiet evenings, the shared laughter, the simple joy of having her here, making his family home feel even more like home.

"Race you to the table?" Y/N challenged, eyes sparkling.

"You're on, F2 driver," he grinned, both of them breaking into a run like they were kids again.

Some things changed – their racing categories, their achievements, their growing dreams. But this – their summers together, their understanding, their connection – this remained constant, as reliable as the Italian sun and as sweet as his mother's lemonade.

And as they collapsed into their seats at the dinner table, breathless with laughter while his parents fondly shook their heads, Kimi couldn't help but think that of all their victories, all their podiums and poles, this might be his favorite kind of winning.

"And crossing the line to take pole position in, Y/N L/N with a stunning lap!"

Kimi's celebration in the Mercedes garage was immediate and enthusiastic enough to draw knowing looks from his entire team. He was supposed to be preparing for his own qualifying session, but his eyes had been glued to the timing screens.

His phone was already in his hand: Kimi: POLE POSITION!! That sector 2 was absolutely insane! Call later? 🏆✨

Her reply came seconds later: Y/N: Learned from the best 😉 Good luck in quali! I'll be watching between engineering lectures ❤️

"Antonelli!" George Russell called out, grinning as he passed by. "Tell your girlfriend congratulations on pole!"

"She's not my—" Kimi started, but George was already walking away, laughing.

@GeorgeRussell63: Caught our rookie watching F2 quali instead of prep 👀 Wonder why? 😏 @KimiAntonelli @YN_LN #Busted

The tweet immediately went viral, with fans cooing over Kimi's obvious pride in Y/N's achievement. The F1 paddock's collective teasing had become relentless since summer break ended.

Later that evening, after both their sessions were done, Kimi settled into his hotel room for their nightly FaceTime call. Y/N appeared on screen, trophy visible in the background, textbooks already spread around her.

"There's my pole-sitter," he beamed.

"There's my Q3 hero," she countered. "P4! Kimi, that was incredible!"

"Thanks to your tip about the kerbs in turn 9—"

A notification interrupted them: @LandoNorris: @KimiAntonelli mate your face literally lights up every time you talk about @YN_LN 😭 Remember when you made us all watch her F1 Academy race during the drivers' briefing?

Y/N burst out laughing. "You did what?"

Kimi's cheeks reddened. "It was an important race! And they all wanted to watch anyway..."

Another notification: @OscarPiastri: Can confirm. He gives us daily updates about both her racing AND her engineering degree 😂 #Whipped

"The whole grid is against me," Kimi groaned, but he was smiling.

"At least Ollie has backup now," Y/N teased, adjusting her laptop so she could better see him while highlighting her thermodynamics notes.

"Speaking of Ollie—" Kimi started, but was cut off by yet another notification.

@OllieBearman: Throwback to Prema days when these two would "study" together but really just stare at each other for hours 👀 #IveBeenSayingItForYears Attached was a photo of teenage Kimi and Y/N in the Prema engineering room, books open but clearly lost in conversation

"We did not stare at each other!" Kimi protested.

"No, you just watch me study every single day," Y/N smirked.

The notifications kept coming:

@CharlesLeclerc: Remember when @KimiAntonelli asked for restaurant recommendations in every city because he wanted to "surprise a friend" during race weekends? 🤔

@CarlosSainz: The friend: @YN_LN 😂

"You asked Charles for restaurant recommendations?" Y/N's expression softened.

"I wanted to make sure you had good places to eat during race weekends," Kimi mumbled. "You forget to eat when you're studying..."

@MaxVerstappen: Called it! Pay up @SChecoPerez - told you he'd watch her quali instead of prep 💰

@SChecoPerez: Next time hide your phone better @KimiAntonelli 😂

Y/N was fully laughing now. "You've got a betting pool on us?"

"The whole paddock apparently," Kimi sighed, but couldn't help smiling at her joy.

@AlexAlbon: POV: You're trying to discuss race strategy but @KimiAntonelli is texting @YN_LN Attached was a video of Kimi smiling at his phone during a strategy meeting

"I'm never going to hear the end of this," Kimi groaned.

"Poor baby," Y/N teased, then her expression turned more serious. "Hey, did you see the analysis I sent about your sector 3? I think if you adjust the entry angle—"

Kimi's heart swelled as she launched into a detailed technical explanation, seamlessly switching between race engineer and student mode. Even with an ocean between them, she was still looking out for him.

@LewisHamilton: Y'all leave them alone - it's sweet 🙌 Some of us remember what it's like to be young and in... racing 😉 @KimiAntonelli @YN_LN

Their phones buzzed simultaneously with a message from Ollie: Group chat "Prema Days" Ollie: LEWIS KNOWS 😭 Even the 7-time champ sees it! Just kiss already!

Y/N rolled her eyes, but Kimi caught the slight blush on her cheeks. "We should probably study," she said, clearly trying to change the subject.

"Of course," Kimi agreed, already pulling out his own notes. "But first - that move into turn 1 for pole? Walk me through it?"

Her face lit up as she began explaining the technical aspects of her qualifying lap, and Kimi found himself smiling softly, completely absorbed in her enthusiasm. In the background, their phones kept buzzing with notifications, the entire F1 grid apparently determined to point out what everyone else could see.

@ValtteriBottas: Taking bets on how long until they officially announce... their "friendship" 😏

@MercedesAMGF1: The way @KimiAntonelli watches all her races from our garage when we're at different tracks 🥺

@ZhouGuanyu24: Don't forget how he explains her engineering projects to us during track walks! Never seen someone so proud 😂

But for Kimi and Y/N, wrapped up in their own little world of race analysis and study sessions, the teasing was just background noise. Their connection, whether across the paddock or across continents, remained as strong as ever – even if the entire F1 grid seemed determined to turn it into the paddock's favorite love story.

"Hey," Y/N said softly, interrupting his thoughts. "Earth to Kimi?"

"Sorry, just thinking."

"About how the entire F1 grid is never gonna let up on you?" she teased.

"About how lucky I am to have you in my corner, even from far away."

Her expression melted into something tender that made all the paddock's teasing worth it. "Always, Kimi. Distance doesn't change that."

@OllieBearman: I've been watching this romcom live since Prema and let me tell you, it only gets better 🍿 #KimiAndYN

This time, neither of them bothered to protest.

The blue light of the laptop screen illuminated Y/N's face as she finished highlighting another passage in her thermodynamics textbook. A soft snore made her look up at her phone propped against the desk lamp - Kimi had dozed off during their FaceTime call, his face peaceful in sleep. The sight brought an involuntary smile to her face.

It was typical of their study sessions these days. Between his F1 schedule and her F1 Academy races, late-night calls were often the only time they could catch up. He'd insist on keeping her company while she studied, claiming he was reviewing race data, but more often than not he'd fall asleep to the sound of her pen scratching against paper.

She closed her textbook quietly, though she knew the sound wouldn't wake him - he could sleep through anything after a long day at the track. As she started her bedtime routine, her mind wandered over their relationship, this comfortable space they'd carved out for themselves between friendship and something more.

The paddock gossip was relentless these days. Every shared smile, every supportive tweet, every time he watched her races from the Mercedes garage - it all became fodder for speculation. Even Ollie, who'd known them since their Prema days, wouldn't let up with his knowing looks.

Standing at her bathroom sink, Y/N caught her own reflection smiling at the memory of Kimi's proud face when she'd explained a particularly complex engineering concept earlier. He'd leaned closer to his camera, completely absorbed, that familiar warmth in his eyes that made her heart skip a beat.

The truth was, she knew how she felt about him. It was there in the way her day felt brighter when his name lit up her phone, in how naturally they'd gravitated toward each other since their junior racing days, in the comfortable silence of their study sessions. But timing was everything in racing - they both knew that better than most.

They were both chasing their dreams at full speed. He was making his mark in F1, living up to the immense expectations placed on Mercedes' youngest driver. She was balancing her engineering degree with her F1 Academy campaign, working toward her own F1 dreams. Adding another variable to that equation felt risky.

Climbing into bed, Y/N glanced one last time at her phone. Kimi had shifted slightly, his features soft in sleep, Mercedes team jacket still on. They had something special - something that had grown organically from shared ambitions and mutual understanding. Maybe that was enough for now.

Racing taught you patience, after all. Sometimes the best moves weren't the boldest ones, but the ones you waited for, setting them up carefully until the moment was just right. For now, she was content with their late-night study sessions, his proud smiles after her wins, the way he'd listen intently to her engineering explanations even when he was exhausted.

"Goodnight, Kimi," she whispered, ending the call. Whatever they were, whatever they might become, it was worth protecting. Some things didn't need to be rushed.

Her phone buzzed with a text from him, sent automatically when their call disconnected: Sweet dreams, engineer. Proud of you always. ❤️

Yeah, Y/N thought, settling into sleep with a smile. They were just fine exactly as they were.

here are some of the tags: @floweringanna, @hiraethberry, @holendernik, @oooom4arie, @burnhampeaches, @dying-inside-but-its-classy

let me know if you want to be added to the list :))

[redsnowdrop]

CARLOS SAINZ X OC

CHAPTER 9 -love at first sight; “cheating”-

To my -> F1 Masterlist <-

To the full version -> link here

It was time for dinner but he wasn't hungry, it was dark outside and too cold to go for a walk to clear his head. He took his jeans and polo shirt from the front of the bed as quietly as possible and got dressed. He took the key and went down to the bar.

-Carlos!- his friend smiled at him, raising his hand to attract his attention but the smile immediately disappeared – sex didn't seem to be that terrible, what's happening? Looks like you just saw a ghost-

-I forgot...- he sighed and ran a hand through his hair -protection- he sighed.

Lando placed the glass on the table. -and you...- he tried to investigate with his eyes so as not to embarrass him but after a few seconds of waiting he said -let it, I mean. You ... outside?-

Carlos looked into his eyes, worried.

Norris opened his mouth in surprise but closed it as soon as he realized it so as not to make his friend uncomfortable. -What about her? Don't know want to tell her?-

-I have to tell her-

-But? Are you afraid that she might pretend to… I mean, are you afraid she wants you to knocked her up? You told me she struggles with money...-

-No, it's not like her. She never took advantage of it. There would have been other signs-

-Then you are not ready to have a child-

-You know I want to start a family-

-Yes, indeed. Please tell me what the problem is because I'm starting to not understand anything anymore-

-Rebecca and Isabella-

Lando opened his mouth again but didn't close it. His eyes didn't lie. He is, a bit, judging his friend. –What happened with them?-

-Emma- he saw Norris confused, too many names, too much important information in too little time – the girl upstairs is Emma, She couldn't come to the GP due to personal problems and so - he sighed looking down - let's say Rebecca happened to be there -

-Yes, I had seen her but I didn't know about the brunette yet- he corrected himself immediately –Emma- he took a sip of coke –and Isabella?-

-In Japan, right after Emma rejected me-

Lando sighed, turning his head slightly away from Carlos –I wouldn't have done it-

-I know, that's why I'm asking you for help-

-What do you want to do? Look, driving for Ferrari and being a playboy are no excuses for acting like an asshole, dickhead-

-Ok, the last insult was free-

He glared at him and fell silent.

-I like Emma- he admitted.

-Do you prefer her to Isa? She was your great love - he asked genuinely.

-I know-

-But what happened with her and Rebecca?-

-Too much. It’s a very long story-

-I understand. But then again… aren't you two together? No? Perfect. Hold on to that and pray she doesn't find out. Definitely close with the others because I won't support you in bad decisions. I'm going now, my girlfriend is waiting - he left ten euros on the table and left.

Carlos was alone at the bar for a moment. He had left his phone and wallet in the room, so as soon as he noticed it, he decided to go upstairs to confront Emma.

He entered the room and turned to put the key on the cabinet -Emma, ​​before...- and saw her in tears. Fully dressed in the same clothes she had on when she first arrived. –Are you okay?- and behind her on the bedside table there was her phone ringing.

“Rebe <3”

And she read gossip magazines online. He knew perfectly well about both Isabella and Rebecca. The news of the kiss with the second at the after party in Monza had made the rounds on all social media, among other things.

-I have never had any demands or expectations. But I'm still disappointed, I knew what I was getting into and... - she sighed with her heart in her throat - I went ahead hoping, believing, that I too deserved a bit of happiness - her voice choked. –it was beautiful but it's not the life I want to live. The ugly lover who breaks up the beautiful happy couple - she smiled through her tears - thank you anyway for everything you have done for me -

She took her things and left. She knew that out of pride she would never return to her parents, she hoped to be able to rely on him. And Carlos had just realized that he had betrayed her when she needed him most.

She furiously slammed the door behind her and Carlos realized that all she had left of her was a red velvet hair tie lost in the white sheets.

Helplessly he took it and turned it over in his hands.

Hy everybody! This is a small spoiler from my Carlos Sainz x OC FF! Hope you like it!

I will post it on AO3 (and maybe on Wattpad as well) in the future!

Let me know what you think and if you like it!

You can’t find more spoilers and info on my profile; go to F1 Masterlist and then look for the F1 Fanfiction Masterlist!

xoxo

[trashytracktales]

Hiii, I’m not sure if your requests are open, but if they are, could you write something with Lando and Reader where they have been dating for just a few weeks, haven’t had sex yet. One day they’re working out together at Lando’s house in Monaco (the room with the mirror from the video I Ate and Trained Like Lando Norris for 24 hours). Reader is doing squats with her back towards the mirror and Lando can’t help but stare at her ass and he gets hard / flustered so he stops from doing his exercise and reader asks him what’s wrong and before he answers she realises he’s horny so she teases him - this time on purpose- and then they fuck in that room on the floor

In the heat of it | LN⁴

💌 REQUESTED by anon ──── Thank you for trusting me enough to bring this to life, it was... something 🥵

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

𐙚 summary ──── They've been dating for a few weeks now, but the time was never right for them to get intimate. During a playful workout together, Lando gets caught staring, sparking a moment that leaves them both realizing just how deep their connection actually goes.

𐙚 pairing ──── Lando Norris x she/her reader

𐙚 rating ──── explicit

𐙚 category ──── F/M

𐙚 warnings ──── +18, mature/sexual content, fluff & smut, explicit language, unprotected sex, swearing, established relationship, suggestive/flirty behavior. MDNI!

𐙚 word count ──── 3.6k

𐙚 date ──── Nov. 12, 2024

𐙚 a/n ──── Enjoy watching Lando learn that some cardio sessions have unexpected side effects 🤍🎀

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﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

IT DOESN’T TAKE long before Lando starts to regret his decision. It would have been much easier to invite his girlfriend to have lunch together. That would have saved him from a constant dry mouth and irregular heartbeat every time he feels her eyes accidentally landing on him.

The smooth floor and sophisticated equipment in his personal gym are softly bathed in the morning sun that seeps through the floor-to-ceiling windows. Monaco's streets are still peaceful at this hour, considering it's the middle of the week, and the port is sparkling in the sunlight.

The room usually has a subtle scent of cedar and rubber, fresh and energized, but now it carries a sweet honey scent, borrowed from her presence.

They are already halfway through their warm-up. She’s pulling a resistance band around her thighs, stretching before they dive into the heavier part of their routine, her focus completely on the exercises he’s walked her through. But, of course, a huge part of her focuses on how Lando touches her, purposely, to guide her when her posture doesn't match the exercise.

Even in simple gym shorts and a T-shirt, Lando somehow manages to look so effortlessly attractive — curly hair a little messy, face flushed just enough from their recent sets, and his labored breathing after putting in the effort. He’s all energy, fluid in his movements, though he's clearly trying to keep his pace casual.

“Lookin’ strong,” he teases, flashing a grin as she adjusts her stance.

The girl shrugs, “I’m just that good at following instructions. Although, I think having one of the best trainers in the area helps, too.”

Lando lets a chuckle out, “I won't go easy on you just because you kiss-ass. But it’s cute to see you trying.”

Even though they have only been dating for a few weeks, there is an undeniable spark between them two, especially in a setting where every glance and skin-to-skin contact feels amplified by the intensity of their exercises. Her sports outfit leaves no room for interpretations, hugging her curves and defining her lines, and Lando's imagination is stimulated every time he turns his gaze towards her.

He’s now down on the floor, holding a plank, his core engaged and muscles taut as he fights to hold his body up and spine straight. She’s supposed to be timing him, but the second he shoots her a cheeky grin, she decides she can’t resist a bit of fun; in her defense, he started it. With a simple touch, the seconds freeze on the screen of his phone, then she places it on one of the boxes stored in the corner of the room.

“Hi there,” says the girl in a soft tone once she sits down in front of him just inches apart, propping herself up on her elbows so her face is level with his.

Lando raises his eyebrows, trying not to laugh as his shoulders shake slightly from the effort of holding his body weight. “Don’t,” he warns her, breath coming in controlled puffs.

“I’m not doing anything,” she smiles innocently, kicking her feet in the air while inching a little closer until her nose almost brushes his.

He laughs at her bad acting, his arms starting to shake a bit more. “Outrageous is what you are.”

She pouts just as Lando dips his head down, managing to steal a playful kiss. Their lips meet briefly, soft and warm, before he pulls back up to maintain his form. It makes her sigh in frustration, the ghost of a kiss not nearly enough for her. If anything, it only leaves her wanting more.

Luckily, he doesn’t pull back when she cups his cheek in her palm, pressing her mouth on his once more, his giggles mixing with hers as he tries to keep his balance. Savoring the feel of his lips and the way Lando grunts softly into the kiss, she can feel that this one is more deeper and slower — much real — making her shiver. It seems as though everything else disappears, the feel of each other reminding them both why they decided to give the relationship a shot in the first place.

“And you are so fun to corrupt,” she admits, finally getting up to give Lando time to recover.

After a few sets, she finally moves on to squats, and Lando follows her positioning herself in front of the mirror. It wasn't even supposed to be there, but he sometimes uses the gym as a storage room for random packages. This one, specifically, came in the mail a few weeks ago and he didn't have time to hang it in the hallway, where he initially planned. So, he simply let it rest against the wall in his gym room, and it's been there ever since. Forgotten.

Giving the circumstances, he is seriously thinking of leaving it there for good.

Conveniently, Lando decides that now is the perfect time to start his Russian twists, so he bends over to collect a dumbbell off the floor, then sits down on the yoga mat. Right in front of her.

Unaware of the effect she's having on him, he watches her go through each squat with his eyes trailing down on the reflection of her ass in the mirror, an intense warmth spreading over him as he tries to focus on his own exercise. It is quite innocent — he's just respectfully looking — until it isn't. Until he feels it in his boxers. Until he almost drops the dumbbell, which catches her attention.

Lando tries to ignore it, though, to nonchallantly brush it off, telling himself that it's natural and that he's just admiring her physical appearance. Anyone in his shoes would do it. However, his thoughts start to wander, images flashing uninvited as his heart rate quickens for reasons far beyond the exercise.

“Are you okay down there, hotshot? What are you fighting?” she asks curiously, raising her head just enough to catch the dazed look on Lando’s face.

Her voice pulls him back, his breath catching for a moment, “Yeah, never better.”

It's his husky voice that gives it away. Right after, she notices a lingering gaze, and the soft pink creeping across his features as his eyes are fixed ahead. She stops, fixing her posture and straightening her back as she turns to catch his gaze in the mirror. She realizes exactly what's going on in a matter of seconds, a little grin forming in the corner of her mouth.

“Am I too dictracting, Lando?” she purrs, her question — and the fact that he knows she caught him in act — not helping at all.

“No,” he lies, “But I think you’re killing it with those squats.”

“And if I turn around to finish my set, what then?” she whispers, a challenge glinting in her eyes as she brushes the tip of her tongue against her lower lip.

His breath is shallow the moment he decides to abandon his exercise. “Then you would be killing me,” he admits with no restraints. “So, by any means, proceed. Please.”

She glances over to see Lando lying flat on his back, one arm draped dramatically over his eyes, as if he's in serious pain. His other hand is splayed over his stomach, fingers tapping a nervous rhythm. It’s still funny to see him like that, but then she notices the way his chest rises and falls a bit too fast, and her eyes drift lower, catching a glimpse of the growing bulge in his shorts, an unmistakable proof of what she’s actually doing to him.

Suddenly, all the amusement disappears from her face, being replaced by a warmth that wraps around her neck, and rising to her cheeks. Her heart is slowly starting to race, small impulses between her thighs forcing her to close them together.

Swallowing hard, she crosses the small space to kneel beside him, gently pulling his arm away from his eyes. His lashes flicker open, meeting her gaze with a mix of embarrassment and desire. And so much lust.

“How can I help you?” asks Lando, his voice rougher than usual, trying to keep things light, though the hint of vulnerability shows in his eyes, and it's not that hard to read.

She chuckles nervously, “The question is how can I help you?”

In response, Lando uses the same hand to wrap his fingers around her neck, pulling her in for a kiss. She feels his hand squeezing a little, the other one moving to her waist, hesitating before pulling her completely on top of him, without breaking the kiss. His tongue slips firmly into her mouth, just as it has done so many times before, but now it feels somehow different. Somehow, they both know that the kiss is meant to lead to something much more intense, because there's nothing stopping them anymore.

In the intimacy of his apartment, without interruption, Lando lowers his hands to her waist, rubbing her against him. Slowly. Repeatedly. The pressure forces them to moan in unison — a brief taste of the pleasure they are about to share. His hands then drop lower, roaming over her thighs, then back down to her ass, cupping it in his large palms.

He breaks away just enough to murmur, his voice low and almost reverent, “That enough of an answer?”

“Positive,” she replies, feeling his breath hitch as she shifts on top of him, straddling his hips, her hands splaying over his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart beneath her fingertips.

Her lips find his again, sweet and intoxicating, each kiss sending sparks to her core. The new position makes her feel him much more firmly between her legs, taking Lando by surprise when her hand lowers to cover his length, massaging him through the thin material of his shorts.

“Fucking hell,” his lips stutter against hers, while rocking his hips into her touch.

“Yeah…” she agrees, breathing hotly above him, “Did I do this to you?”

Before Lando gets a chance to even think of an answer, she slips her hand under the elastic band of his boxers, taking him in her hand, feeling him in his entirety — deliciously soft skin, warm and ready, and so painfully hard.

It makes her ache for him.

She pumps his cock in her hand a few times, enough for her to feel how he shifts under her. It takes her a lot of self-control to stop herself from taking him in her mouth the second she hears his sweet little panting, her thumb rubbing softly over his swollen tip.

The workout itself had left Lando’s muscles burning, but her touch it’s something else entirely, igniting a heat in him that burns deeper than anything he’s felt before. Five more minutes enjoying the same high and he can give up cardio completely. Guaranteed.

Slowly coming back to his senses, Lando realizes that he has free will, so he slips his hands under her sports bra, palming her hungrily until he feels her nipples hardening under his touch. He breaths heavily as he rolls them between his fingers, managing to make her respond with a soft meowl, her grip on his cock losening.

That's his cue to take the lead, pulling her bra over her head in a quick move, and flipping their bodies over so that now he's hovering above her, eyes filled with need while looking down at her.

“Hi there,” Lando copies her tone from earlier, feeling a little fraction of the power she had over him.

She wants to talk back so badly — one of her sarcastic little comments that she knows he loves — but all she can do is let out a pathetic whimper between her lips when his mouth finds home on her bare breast. At that, Lando feels a shiver running down his spine, looking up at how she closes her eyes in pleasure, arching her back more against his mouth.

“Driving me insane with your pretty ass, baby,” he says, breathing heavily, managing to cover her body in a thin layer of goosebumps, “And your pretty fucking nipples.”

“Lando…” she lets another cry slip out, opening her eyes to look at him.

The image that greets her makes her breath catch in her throat. The way he sucks on her nipple while playing with the other one, and the way he looks up at her through his eyelashes — it’s all too much. She ends up wrapping her legs around his waist, pulling him down with her. Then she runs her hands down his back, tugging at the edge of his shirt, tossing the useless material carelessly to the floor before pulling him closer for another kiss.

Mouth to mouth, chest to chest, skin on skin — who says heaven isn't real?

But if that's heaven, then what can she name the feeling she gets the moment his hand slips into her gym shorts and his fingers brush against her soaked entrance? Because it feels way too fucking good — much better than she expected, and certainly much better than her own hand whenever she pictured his face while fingering herself.

Lando starts slowly at first, spreading her wetness around her pussy, then fucking his fingers in and out, while cautiously watching her facial expressions changing. It’s not taking him long before finding that sweet, sweet spot that makes her roll her hips into his hand, desperation painted all over her face.

“Lan… yes,” she starts panting, “That’s—yes, right there.”

He hums proudly, sealing his mouth to hers, while parting her thighs with his knee so he can spread her more in front of him. Feeling herself open to his touch, so easy and wet, he no longer feels self-conscious about the way she's so quickly tunring him boneless under her gaze. He realizes that the feeling is mutual, and it makes him want her even more.

If that's even possible.

The sound of his fingers repeatedly fucking into her is all that anchors her in the present moment, but the second Lando feels her squeezing around them, he stops so he can silently ask for her permission to take the last piece of her clothing off.

She nods in a rush, swallowing the lump in her throat in anticipation.

Every inch of her is now bathed in the soft, golden light streaming through the window. Warm shadows are cast along her curves, the light outlining each delicate contour of her body as though the sun itself is painting her in real time. The image is so powerful yet vulnerable as she stands there, her figure glimmering with an almost unearthly serene confidence. Lando is utterly captivated by how ethereal she looks, like a goddess come to life, the kind he never imagined he would be close enough to even touch, let alone enjoy. He feels like he’s witnessing something sacred, something so incredibly rare, and the awe he feels is mixed with gratitude that she’s here with him, letting him see her in a such perfect lighting.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” Lando finally manages to say, hoping that he hasn't started drooling all over her in the meantime. “All of you.”

“Your turn,” she says in a muffled voice, slightly bashful at the way he stares at her like he wants to devour her. Which is not far from the truth.

He agrees that it's a fair request, realizing that the only thing separating them now are his own shorts. Without protesting — because that would be so fucking dumb considering how hard he is — Lando gets rid of them with the speed of a perfect qualifying lap.

Matching the same pace, Lando’s hands slide around her waist, his fingers pressing gently into her hips as he guides them both to the side so they can face the window — or that's what she thought. Confused at first, she's frowning at him, then follows his gaze, lost in the direction of their reflection, understanding immediately what he really wants — a show. A show just for them, in which they can lose themselves together, without limits.

She sighs at the sight of their hot, naked bodies, the way he aligns himself with her, and how he’s finally pushing inside, enough to hear her whimper. She watches as he stands above her, his hands gliding slowly over her sides, up her arms, grounding her in his touch. The image of them together, framed in the soft glow of the room, feels surreal — so intimate and vulnerable in a way that’s completely new for both of them.

Lando pauses, pulling out at her little whimper, then pressing back in, but just the tip.

“Fuck, baby,” he whispers, “You're so fucking wet it keeps slipping out,” adds Lando in a low tone, so turned on that it makes her clench around his head.

To her frustration, the speed at which Lando pushes back inside might as well be negative, causing her to explode with how needy she becomes in the meantime. But just as she’s about to encourage him to sink further, he buries himself to the hilt in one powerful thrust.

“Lan…” she says as she wraps her arms around his shoulders, “You… feel so good,” she takes a moment to breath into his skin, then she turns her head to catch their reflection once again.

Lando is already looking, and when they make eye contact through the mirror, he starts fucking her slowly and gently, as if he could break her.

“See how silly you look for thinking we won't match?” he sounds so amazed by how easily she opens up for him, over and over again, with each steady thrust of his hips, “See that? Taking all of me so well, baby.”

“Lando,” she cries out at the way his cock throbs against her walls, because she knows it's way too slow, even for him.

It's simply agonizing.

“So perfect around me,” he states, “Can't believe I lasted that long. Should've fucked you from the first night.”

At this point, he's just rambling, but the thought makes her stomach tie in a knot.

“You would've let me, wouldn't you?”

“Yes,” she speaks, already drunk on the way he feels inside her, “I would have let you fuck me in the plane bathroom, on the way to Imola. And back in your driver's room, when Oscar caught us kissing. And last week, outside the club… Fuck. I wanted you to fuck me there so bad.”

His mind goes blank with all the lost opportunities, causing him to gradually increase his pace, the sound of them connecting so obscene.

“Wh—” he almost chokes on words, “Why didn't you say anything?”

“You—stressed about work. I… I didn't want to be—distraction,” she tightens her legs around him, keeping him inside her, the words losing their meaning as Lando shifts his position, wrapping his arm around her thigh to open her up even more for him. "Like that, mhm, yes!"

“You're so tight, fuck,” he swallows hard as he squeezes roughly at her thighs. “I'm so close.”

She knows that will leave marks on her skin, but nothing beats the pleasure of having Lando fucking himself so deep inside her, that her vision starts clouding.

All common sense went out the window the moment she stepped through his door, anyway.

She can feel his breath warm against her neck, hear the soft hitch in his breathing as he leans in, his lips brushing her shoulder, never breaking eye contact with her in the mirror. Lando's hands are making their way to cup her ass, pulling out all the way, before fucking back in, all over again, until he finds the perfect rhythm between their bodies. He moans loudly, pressing his upper body on her, their scents blending together and sweat transferring from skin to skin. They move so in sync, completely attuned to each other, and the sight of their shared pleasure, reflected back at them, turns everything into fireworks, her mind completely empty. Except for how well she's being fucked.

“Lan—Lando,” she's so close to sobbing that she shuts her mouth at the sound of her voice, thinking it's too pathetic to whine as she cums around him, her release dripping all over between their bodies.

The wet sound her pussy makes gives Lando way to fuck in deeper, taken by surprise that she finished without any warnings. He grips her ass one more time before he stills inside her, his cock throbbing, and pulls out right before he starts leaking, resting his cock against her thigh, his entire length coated in her release. His cum drips from his tip to her inner thigh, making him groan while he fixes his gaze on the mirror at the image of them.

She buries her fingers in his curls after he finally collapses on top of her, their heavy breaths echoing throughout the room. With his head on her chest, he can feel her heart racing, gradually slowing down, and lets out a soft laugh as she shifts a little under him.

“We're so fucking matching, baby. Let's gooo!” exclaims Lando, exhaust evident in his voice.

She feels her cheeks warm, “I think you’re a little biased right now,” she jokes.

Lando shifts slightly so he can see her face, brushing a thumb tenderly along her side. He smiles softly, the usual spark in his eyes softened by something deeper, so gentle.

“I'm just happy.”

Her heart flutters, and she feels him sink even closer to her, threading his fingers through hers.

“And very sweaty,” she adds with a chuckle.

“I'm pretty sure that's you,” he teases, letting the moment pass slowly, then calling out her name in a serious voice.

“Mhm?” she hums while turning to look in the mirror, watching him getting comfortable on top of her.

“Where do we go from here?” asks Lando.

“Your bedroom, I hope. The floor is killing my back.”

Thank you for reading!

None of my works are available for reposting on other platforms. Reblogs, likes, and comments are deeply appreciated ♥︎

© trashy track tales, 2024

[freakyformula]

Stockholm Syndrome

Summary: Mafia Max kidnaps the reader and tries to win her over.

A/N: Might make a part two... Maybe.

Warnings: Smut, NSFW, swear words, mentions of injuries, oral (both receiving), creampie, light spanking....

Word count: 7,7k

The sound of music and glasses clunking filled your ears as you sat with your friend on the balcony of the most extravagant nightclub the city could offer. The menu was filled with ridiculously expensive drinks and appetizers.

You didn't live here, but your best friend Emma did. You two had known each other since you were in kindergarten and spent every day together in school. When you got a little older though, life got in the way and you got separated by university and work. This didn't stop you two, you still spoke almost every day on the phone.

Emma had recently gotten promoted and decided to invite you over to her city to celebrate. Neither you nor Emma had any other friends, it was just you and her, always together.

You didn't really know why she'd decided on this club, but you had to admit, it was impressive with the expensive-looking ornaments and the huge crystal chandelier hanging in the middle of the industrial building.

As you looked around, all you could see was well-dressed men and women. You felt misplaced.

"I need a fag so bad." Emma declares and struts off, leaving you alone inside.

Sitting alone made you feel even more awkward and you could see the others looking down at you with what looked like pity in their eyes.

You sipped on your spritz and looked down, embarrassed. You dressed modestly, wearing an off-shoulder midi dress in white, fitting you perfectly. Emma and you had been out shopping for the occasion earlier that day. When you got ready a couple of hours earlier, you thought you looked okay, but right now, you couldn't feel more unattractive.

A bunch of men barges out from a room in the back, making the other guests quickly move out of their way. The men were dressed in all black and walk up to the bar, a couple of meters from you. You quickly turn around on the fancy leather sofa, not wanting to draw their attention. When you turn around, you notice a man exiting the same door from which the other males exited only a few seconds before. This man was unlike the others; he strolled in with gentle steps, whereas the others made their arrival sound like a swarm of hippos was approaching. And he looked so put together. That suit of his must be really expensive.

You catch yourself staring and quickly look away.

"Wanna dance?" You hear Emma yell from behind. You really weren't in the mood but you obeyed her wish. You follow her to the dance floor. You threw your hair and sang along to the song, making the other guests look at you in annoyance, but you couldn't care less at that moment. All you were here for was to celebrate your friend and her accomplishments.

As you walked up to your table again, you went by the bar and inspected the menu closely. You decide on a cocktail and place the order.

"This one is on me." You hear, the raspy sound coming from behind.

The bartender quickly starts working on your order as the man looks at him. You turn around and lock eyes with the man you saw before. He gazes down at you and gives you a sweet smile.

"Sorry, Max." He introduces himself and offers a handshake.

"Hi, I-I'm Y/N." You reply and shake his hand. His handshake was powerful, just like you thought it would be.

"Y/N. Beautiful name. Now tell me, Y/N, what lures a beauty like you to my club?"

You're shocked by his statement, which makes him chuckle, but you still keep eye contact.

Is this man the owner? But he looks so young, surely he's lying, right?

"I… I'm here with my friend." You say and point to your friend who is half asleep on the leather sofa, clearly completely off her face.

"I see." Max turns to look at you again. His gaze is so intense, that it almost makes you uncomfortable.

You turn to look at the bartender, who is taking longer than usual to finish your drink. Max lingers by your side, making small talk with you and what you assumed were his friends until you got your drink. "It was nice meeting you, Y/N. Enjoy the rest of your night." Max smiles at you and you sip on your drink, giving him a smile back. He was pleasant to be around and you felt a little lonely when he and the black-suited men followed him. You went back to your table only to realize that Emma has dozed off.

"Emma, wake up!" You yell at her. You try shaking her without luck. She was out and there was no way of waking her.

"Fuck, always drinking too much…" You mutter to yourself. Now what were you supposed to do? Before you could think further you started to feel drowsy. "The hell?" You ask yourself as you too drift off into a comfortable slumber.

The sound of men talking fills your ears as you're lulled out of your sleep. The bright light makes it hard to see and it takes a while for your eyes to adjust.

"Where am I?" You ask.

No answer. The satin pillows under your head aren't yours. And you didn't recognize the room either. You were too groggy to register anything about the room you were in, except that it was light. Wait, why were you in a hospital? You try to move your hands to rub your eyes but your hands are stopped. You look up at your hands, they're bruised by the handcuffs around your wrists.

"What the… actual.." You whisper to yourself. Now, panic starts to take over all of your senses and you spring up from the mattress to your knees.

"Help!" You yell.

The room felt sterile, and even if your sight was blurred you noticed the white tile walls and what looked like medical equipment in a couple of cabinets on the other side of the room.

Panic fully encompasses you and you place your legs against the wall to try to pull the metal off your hands. You've quickly used all of the remaining energy. Your eyes water up and you look around for something to help you escape. Everything you see to make you company in the room is the mattress, a couple of pillows and the cabinets.

You cry out and try to remember what exactly happened last night. Emma. Where was Emma? You think to yourself. You had to get out of here. As you're about to start struggling with the chain again you freeze, hearing footsteps and voices from outside of the door.

"Open the door." A familiar voice says, followed by the sound of keys clinging.

You have no idea what to do, so you just collapse on the mattress, pretending to be asleep.

As the door opens, you hear multiple footsteps approaching you.

"Good morning, beautiful." The voice whispers. "Get out before I kill you all." He says, barely audible, assumably to the others in the room. Before you can even register it, the room is empty, except for you and the man.

You feel someone rubbing your arm lightly.

"Ik weet dat je wakker bent." I know you're awake

You have no idea what the familiar voice just said, and just keep your eyes shut. The voice sighs and walks off. You hear a thump and you can only assume that the man has sat down on the floor.

You lie there, quiet, not daring to move an inch.

"You know, Y/N… As long as you treat me nicely, I will do the same to you." The voice speaks.

How does the voice know your name?

Slowly but surely, the happenings of last night come to mind.

The man you met at the nightclub. Max. Was he behind all of this?

You don't dare to look up to check if it's him you're sharing the room with, but the voice is similar.

You hear him moving on the floor, shuffling his way over to your mattress. When you feel his fingers on your hand you instinctively kick in his direction. The man is quick though, and dodges the kicks from you. As if by routine, he grabs your swinging legs. You let out a cry, and you two settle with him looking down at you lying on your back with your legs in his embrace.

"Max…. Where the fuck am I and where is Emma?" You look up at him with tears flowing on your cheeks as you tremble in fear.

"Shhhh, sweetheart, it's okay, I'm not going to hurt you."

"Then why the fuck am I here?!" You yell.

"You're simply here because I want you, and I couldn't risk you getting away last night."

You stare into his mellow eyes and try to process what he just said.

"Who the fuck are you?"

"I'm Max Verstappen and I'm the head of the mafia around here." Your body tenses up when you hear him. Mafia? Max looked way too innocent to be a part of the mafia. This had to be some sort of sick joke.

"You're mad, you know that? Now, let me loose and we'll forget about all of this." You try to bargain.

"Oh no, that's not how this works, Y/N. You see, I can't just let you go, you belong to me now."

"Where is Emma?" You ask again.

"Your friend? She's safe."

He lets your legs go and starts pacing the room.

"Why me?" You ask in confusion.

"Because you tick all of my boxes. You're beautiful, you've got class, you're funny…"

"You don't know anything about me, creep." You mutter.

"Oh trust me Y/N, I know more about you than you probably realise."

You crawl into a ball, sobbing your heart out as Max looks at you.

"Let me help you, Y/N. I don't want to hurt you, but I also can't let you go.

His words enlighten a rage in you, a rage that you thought you weren't even capable of.

"I literally met you last night, motherfucker! Don't barge in here thinking you know me when you clearly know nothing." You yell at his face.

He looks completely deflated as he looks at you. He stares down at his shoes and seems to think about what to say next. "Clearly, this will take time." He finishes and walks out.

A couple of weeks pass, and you're moved to a new room, equipped with your own toilet, a proper bed, kitchen table, and two armchairs. Max would visit you multiple times a day to get to know you, sometimes spending hours upon hours sitting in that stupid armchair of his, either trying to strike up a conversation with you or just sitting there in silence, keeping an eye on you. Either way, he seemed to enjoy himself.

You, on the other hand, either ignored him or argued back to anything he said. You weren't going to make this easy for him, that was for sure. How he kept his cool, was beyond you.

"Liefje, stop that." He sternly says as you hit the door, desperate to get out.

"You know there are at least 12 heavily armed men on the other side with strict orders not to let you out, right?"

You couldn't give less of a fuck, they might as well kill you.

When you're about to hit the door once more, you feel Max's hands on yours, hitting against the door one last time. He presses you against the metal door and keeps his hands on yours.

"You will do exactly as I say, will you not, hm?" Max asks.

"Kill me then! You might as well kill me if I'm going to be held here like a prisoner for the rest of my life!" You yell in his face.

Day after day, he'd come. Sometimes he'd bring you a bouquet of flowers, which you tossed in the trash immediately, sometimes he brought you something you'd requested, like a McDonald's cheeseburger or Lindt chocolate. You were grateful he actually cared enough to bring you those things. Some kidnappers surely wouldn't treat you with this much dignity, you resonated.

A couple of more weeks pass and Max starts to bring you gifts. Clothes he thought you'd look good in, jewellery he'd put his eyes on and needed to buy for you to wear, shoes he'd take off your feet at some point.

He convinced you to eat dinner at the same time as him. Usually you'd wait for him to finish his meal in order to avoid having to face him. To you, it would equal defeat and you were adamant on making his life a living hell.

"So, could this be concidered a first date?" He smiles at you.

"In your dreams, Verstappen."

His whole body shuddered as he heard you use his last name.

You sitting at the same table as him was progress. In the beginning, you wouldn't even look his way.

"So, when are you letting me free?" You ask with a stern tone.

"When I know you won't run away."

"So in theory, never?"

"If that's what you want." He shrugs as his eyes darken. "I will always find you if you run away. Always."

A couple of days pass and Max once again walks into the room. He'd visited you in the morning, accidentally waking you up. Now though, he was ready for dinner.

"My cook made us dinner." He says as he takes off his coat and approaches you sitting at the table, completing a puzzle he'd bought for you; you were pleasantly pleased when he stepped in with it, you'd mentioned that you enjoy crocheting, reading and solving puzzles at some point, and he'd picked up on that.

"Hmmmm… I'm not hungry." You say.

"I know you're hungry Y/N. My men told me that you didn't eat breakfast."

And he was right, you were starving.

"Ugh… Hate you." You mutter to yourself.

"You don't mean that." Max whispers, reassuring himself.

You move over so you sit opposite the handsome man. You gladly eat the food the cook made, you have to admit that the food they made was delicious.

Max looks at you fondly while you eat until you look up at him.

"What?!" You ask, irritation evident in your voice.

"Just admiring my girl."

"You slam down your fork into the table, leaving four small dents in the wood.

"Your girl? I'm not your girl Max. You kidnapped me! I'm not here of my own free will."

He smirks at you. "Just give me some time and I'll change that."

"Do you promise to be a good girl?" He asks of you as he ties the blindfold around your head.

"Yes, Max." You sigh.

Finally, he was moving you from the lonely room to his very own house.

He leads you into the car, making sure you're comfortable.

On the way, the guards, the same men you met that night, kept communicating with each other. You wondered how many men Max needed to feel safe.

"Don't worry about them, it's only a precaution to keep us safe. I've got important cargo on board." He chuckles as he grabs your hand and squeezes it reassuringly.

You huff, "Last time you call me cargo, imbecile."

When Max opens the door for you and removes the blindfold, you finally realise the extent of his wealth.

What he had defined as a house was a mansion in reality. And the garden… Surely, this is where he got those bouquets from. You also catched a glimpse of the padel course and the swimming pool close by.

All of the guards welcomed you respectfully. It was weird seeing all of them like this, months after your first encounter at the club.

"Y/N, these are your personal guards, Daniel, Lando, and Charles. They will keep you safe at all times." Max states.

The men don't dare to look at you, afraid of Max's reaction. They simply just nod.

Living with a mafia boss had it's perks and drawbacks. He'd bring you flowers from his garden daily, and gifted you something ridiculously expensive weekly meaning your new wardrobe started to fill up with new expensive clothes and jewellery. Max didn't trust you enough to be alone outside the house, so you were still followed by at least one of the guards.

You tried your hardest to be nice to them, it wasn't their fault that you were in this unfortunate situation. They were clearly uncomfortable being your guards, not wanting to look your way, touch you or talk to you, afraid of their fate if they angered their boss. You were thankful though, they helped you with things you needed help with and stayed out of your way when you needed them to.

You had to admit, you lived a comfortable life. You'd spend your day either by the pool or comfortably inside the large, luxurious house. You wouldn't have to lift a finger again with Max as your man. The problem was, you were itching to get out into the world again. You had no contact with the outside world. You missed your parents and siblings at home. You missed Emma. Hell, you even missed work.

One day, after dinner, Max walks up to you with a box.

"Open it." Max encourages you.

"Not another gift, Max. I've told you, I don't want any!" You complain.

"I promise, you will like this one."

You sigh and study the neat black box with a black ribbon on top.

And Max is right, you love the gift. He had gifted you a phone, how generous of him. Finally, you had a way to keep in contact with the world. You had one contact. Emma. You immediately dial her and wait for her to pick up.

"Hello, who is this?" You hear your dear friend ask.

You instantly burst out crying when you hear her voice.

"It's Y/N! I'm so glad to hear your voice!"

"Y/N?! What the fuck, where are you, are you okay? I reported you missing months ago! Honestly, the police, your parents, and I started to lose hope of finding you." You hear her sobbing too.

"I'm okay, I've been forbidden to tell you where I am but I'm fine. Please send my parents my regards."

You continue talking for the rest of the evening. Max leaves you to it, trusting you enough not to tell your friend about your whereabouts. Max permitted you to call Emma once per week, and your calls was all you looked forward to. Hearing Emmas voice was soothing and felt like home.

"Y/N, I'm going mad, where are you? I want to meet up." Emma asks after a couple of weeks.

You look up at Max and Lando, both of them standing in front of you, hearing her question as she's on speaker.

"Uhhh, I'm afraid I can't tell you, Emma, but I hope we can meet up soon." You nod at the men and they nod approvingly back. Not being able to tell your best friend hurt more than it should have. That night you spend sobbing your heart out into one of your goose down pillows in your bed, cursing Max out as he pats your head.

"Fuck you, Max!" You curse.

"Shhhh…. It will get easier. And if you behave and act like a good girl for me, I'll let you meet Emma." Max tries to soothe you.

The day after, you tried calling your parents when Max didn't see or hear, but the call didn't come through. Surely, Max had a function on it, meaning the only person you could call was Emma. Max found out that you'd disobeyed him by calling your parents and took your phone away, enraging you even more. You soon realised that the only way you'd get out of this was by obeying Max's rules.

You were peacefully eating breakfast when Max and a couple of his men followed him into the kitchen.

He sneakily appears behind you and steals a piece of your toast as you're about to have a bite.

"Heyy!! Thief!" You yell.

Max and his men let out a giggle at your annoyed expression.

"I'll be home at 7 pm, okay?" Max asks.

"Yeah." You shrug at him. He gives you a small smile and turns around.

You spend the day at the pool, reading a book Max gifted you. Lolita by Vladimir Nabokov. Why he chose that book, you didn't know. Daniel and Charles spend their day near you, standing guard. Luckily they don't have to be by themselves and you can hear them laughing now and again.

You craved a friend like that too. In a way Max was unfair, he let his men talk to each other and have friendships but letting you meet Emma was out of the question.

You figured you would freshen up before Max got home, and walked inside. The men didn't follow for once, seemingly deep in a conversation.

That meant that you could discover the mansion by yourself. The men had stopped you from exploring the whole building for some reason. Mindlessly, you strolled around the house, checking the doors. Weirdly, all of them were locked. Bored, you walk back to your room. On the way, you walk past Max's room. Curiosity overwhelms you and you check the door, and it's open. You hear the floor creak as you walk on it. You try to walk even lighter as you find your way further into the room. The floor was painted in a dark wooden accent and the ceiling was filled with paintings of angels, lambs and plump clouds. You turn to the fireplace with a huge painting of a man above it. The man looked like an older version of Max, surely it had to be either his father or grandfather.

All of a sudden, the lights come on, and you see Max standing in the doorway.

"Sneaking around, are we?"

"No, no, it wasn't like that!" You try to explain, as Max walks closer to you.

"Shhhh…" He shushes, "This is the perfect opportunity to show you our bedroom. This is where you'll be sleeping for the rest of your life when you decide to move in."

"I like it?" You say, insure about the dark red tones and tassels spread around the room.

Max takes notice of your facial expression. "I'll have it renovated for you, maybe that will encourage you to move in quicker?" Max asks. "I'm making no promises." You shake your head and give him a teasing smile.

Max creeps closer to you, not breaking eye contact. You've gotten used to the man and you don't back off when he walks closer to you. He grabs your arms, pulling you even closer. You feel the heat he radiates as your bodies touch. And that signature cologne he wears every day smells different at this proximity. Before things get too heated for your liking you pull away, which results in Max pulling you in again, making you yelp. He bends down and places a delicate kiss on your forehead. Then, finally, he lets you go.

You're so shocked, you don't even register that his hands aren't holding you in place, and you stand there for what feels like an eternity, staring into his ocean-blue eyes. Your breath is heavy, and so is his. Max returns his hands to you, but this time he doesn't hold you in place but rather supports you. His hands wander from your sides down to your hips.

Max lets out a small moan. "Feel so good. You're driving me crazy." His words are messing with your head. You know what he's trying to do and you refuse to fall for his gaslighting. But goddamn, his hands felt so good on you. His hands grow bolder and fall to your ass, giving it a little squeeze.

You break from his soft hold and glare at him.

"Too soon? Sorry, liefje."

A couple of weeks pass, and you're growing accustomed to Max and his life.

You and Emma talk almost daily at this point and you're starting to enjoy your surroundings, despite the lack of freedom. Well, lack of privacy to be exact, as Max has let you off his premises a couple of times to do some shopping. The guards were still following you wherever you went though.

Max would try to get closer to you, stealing light kisses on your forehead and cheeks.

"Good morning, sweetheart." Max smiles when he sees you walk into the kitchen. You grab the kettle, "Good morning… You sound like you're in a good mood."

"I am, I actually have some very exciting plans for us later." He says as he walks around the kitchen island and walks up behind you, turning you around.

"Here." He lends you his black card, "Take this and get yourself something nice for later."

"Max… What do you mean by "nice"? You ask.

"Something that will make people drop their jaws, I give you free hands."

And with that, he leaves for work. Lando, Daniel, and Charles are ordered to take care of you. They quickly nod and wait for you to get ready. Just to mess with them a little, you take your time eating breakfast, choosing your outfit, and applying makeup.

"Finally!" Lando exclaims, followed by a slight push by Charles. They lead you outside, walking close by in case you decide to run away. What they don't seem to realise is, you're in heels and you're not running anywhere with them on.

You walk around the mall all day in order to find something nice to wear for the evening. It was harder than you thought, especially since you had no idea of what Max's plans were.

You finally decide on a black maxi dress with a slightly exposed back. You walk out from the changing room and ask the men for opinions.

"Errrm, it's fine, I guess?" Charles answers, unsure of what to say.

"It looks awesome on you." Daniel corrects his co-worker, followed by an approving nod by Lando.

"What exactly are I and Max doing later?" You ask the trio of guards as you walk out of the shop with a couple of shopping bags in their hands.

"He told us not to tell." They simply state.

"Ugh." You roll your eyes at them, annoyed by their loyalty to their boss.

Your eyes land on a jewelry shop, and the most beautiful necklace you'd ever laid your eyes on. You turn your heel, making the men almost crash into you. They apologize profusely but you don't listen. "Good day, miss." The store clerk greets. "Searching for something in particular?"

You walk over to the grand necklace. "How much is this?"

"100." The salesperson states.

You look at them, confused. 100? Surely the necklace was worth more than that.

The clerk must've noticed your confusion because they cleared their throat and looked at the men behind you with a questioning look.

"100 000, miss."

The words came off their tongue like it was nothing. On the other hand, you could not believe what you'd just heard.

"….100 000?" You question. "Consider it sold." You say, smiling. The clerk turns and stares at you with big eyes. The trio behind you stare at you with even bigger eyes. Theoretically, you could get a house for the same price. You finish up the deal and walk away as a proud one hundred thousand necklace owner with the guards taking care not to walk into you again.

When you get home, it's already late and you need to start getting ready.

"When is Max coming home?" You ask Lando.

"Soon." He answers, leaving you alone in your room.

You take a quick shower to freshen up. You wrap a towel around your naked body and when you get out of the bathroom you're startled by Max, as he's lying on your bed scrolling on his phone languidly.

"What the fuck, Max? That's my bed!"

"Hello schatje, miss me? And actually, you're in my house, I can do whatever I want in here."

You groan, "Some privacy please?!"

Max gets up and gives you a quick kiss on your cheek, something you don't fight against.

"Wanted to see you, that was all." And with that, he exits your bedroom and closes the door.

You get ready for him in record time. When you come down the stairs, he's already waiting for you. The dress you wear fits you like a glove and you feel sexy. What finished your look off though, was the necklace, that you'd paired with some other jewelry to match.

Max meets up with you halfway and takes your hand, kissing it.

"When I said 'free hands', this is exactly what I had in mind, Y/N."

"Do you like it?" You ask, giving him a spin.

"I love it, I love you." He admits as he pulls you close and kisses you. This was unexpected and you should've refused but you just… couldn't. When he pulls away he studies you once again and huffs,

"So beautiful, mijn liefde."

"Ready?" He asks as he guides you out to his car.

"When are you going to tell me what we're doing?"

"I'm taking you to see my mother."

"You're taking me to meet your mother?! I thought you were taking me for dinner!"

"Well, technically I am, she's an excellent cook and she's making dinner for us."

You shake your head aggressively, not happy with the situation. Max keeps talking as if nothing happened on the remainder of the car ride. "Here we are." Max says happily as he turns onto the road leading to his childhood home. You see a lady waving on the stairs leading up to the large manor.

"Max, Y/N." She yells. "I'm so happy to finally meet you!"

"Mama!" Max runs to hug her.

He walks back to you to lead you up to his mother.

"Hi, I'm Y/N. It's a pleasure to meet you." You try to be nice to the woman and give off a positive impression.

"Hello, I'm Sophie, Max's mother. He has told me so much about you."

You give him a questioning look as you walk in. They give you a tour of the large house, and you can't help wondering what both Max and his mother are doing with such large houses when they live alone, excluding the guards of course.

"I hope you're hungry, I've made dinner!" Sophie tells you with a wide smile.

Sophie is one of the best cooks indeed, and you eat with a good appetite, much to her delight.

Sophie spends the rest of the dinner sharing awkward stories about Max. He buries his face in his hands in order to escape his mother's story about how he shot himself in the foot when he was 11. "And then, he stole his father's gun and ran away… Not knowing it was loaded." She explains.

You enjoy their company, and you can tell that Max has inherited his nice manners from his mother.

"Will you excuse me and Y/N for a moment, I'd like to show her the rose garden?" Max asks his mother.

Sophie nods and you take off outside, it's getting late and chilly, so Max offers his suit jacket to you. As you slowly walk towards the garden, Max creeps closer, wrapping his arm around your back and landing his hand on your hip.

"Your mother is lovely, Max." You look up at him.

"I know, and she seems to love you too."

When you reach the garden, he stops you. "I brought you here because I wanted to ask you to be my one and only for the rest of my life." He asks as he leans in, stopping only a few centimeters from you.

"W-what are you implying, Max?" You ask nervously, looking him straight in the eyes.

"I'm asking you to be my beloved. I want to make you my wife, the mother of my children. I want to grow old with you, and die by your side."

His words makes your stomach flutter. You can't help yourself anymore, you crash into his mouth and he very eagerly kisses you back.

"Max…" You moan, out of breath. "I think I like you."

He sighs. "I love you, Y/N, and I intend to make you love me too, but I understand if it takes time."

As you walk back up to the manor, Sophie is already standing at the stairs.

"We better leave, it's getting late." Max looks at his armwatch.

After saying your goodbyes and getting into the car, Max drives homeward.

His hand is glued to your thigh the whole way, squeezing it.

You feel yourself getting wetter by the second, and you press your legs together. Max must have noticed this, because he pries your legs open with his hand. He quickly slides his hand up to your heat before you have the chance to close your legs again.

"Mijn god, you're so wet already. And I haven't even done anything yet." Max gasps as he moves your thong to the side and slides his finger along your slit.

"Max, please."

"So pretty, begging for me like this. Are you mine, huh? Are you?" He asks.

"Please, please. I'm yours."

Max groans and stops the car at the first bus stop he can find.

"Get in the back." He commands. Luckily he brought the SUV, because there was plenty of space for you and him in the backseat.

"Come here, beautiful." He pulls your dress up to your hips as you slowly straddle him, taking care to not rip your dress.

"Just like that…" He whispers. "Don't be scared, I'm not going to hurt you." You can hear your own heart beating, and Max probably noticed too.

"Can I touch you… Like this?" He asks as he kneads your buttocks. All of a sudden, he gives your left asscheek a slap, making you yelp.

"Ouch! What was that for?" You raise your eyebrow.

"For making me wait so long." He whispers, feeling his breath on your face.

You enjoy him massaging your ass but you have another place that desperately needs some attention. You try to grind down on him to get some friction but when you do, he grabs your hips to hold you still. You groan, looking at him disapprovingly.

"What do you need, schat?"

"Need… Need you."

"Need… This?" He asks as his hand wanders to the sides, pulling your thong halfway down your legs and touching you where you need him most. His finger starts flicking your clit while he slowly and gently inserts a finger into your cunt, making you moan out. You feel your walls tightening around his finger deliciously, making him moan. You grind down on him while he adds another finger into your aching pussy. By curling his fingers, he quickly makes you scream out your orgasm. It was drawn out, warm, sweaty and stopping your breath. You collapse on him, making him chuckle.

"We need to continue the drive…" Max whispers in your ear when you've come down and your breath has steadied.

The rest of the car ride home, you spend looking at him, you study his features… His dark blonde ruffled hair, big puffy lips, delicious thighs, blue eyes, and his beautiful soul. Deep down, you knew he was good, he was just brought into the wrong family and upbringing.

Were you falling for him? Absolutely. Helplessly, shamelessly.

When he parks in front of the house, he walks over to your side and pulls you into his arms, carrying you inside.

"I was hoping you'd sleep with me tonight…" He looks down on you.

"If you promise not to snore." You smile up at him. He bursts out laughing at your shenanigans.

"You're allowed to kick me off the bed if I do…" He softly replies as he walks up the stairs.

The guards are smart enough to stop in their tracks at the stairs, leaving you completely alone with Max.

"Why does this feel like some sort of wedding night?" You whisper.

"Does it? Are you nervous?" He looks at you with worry in his eyes.

"Yes… I mean no. I mean… Uh, maybe a little?"

"Don't worry, liefje. You're okay." He whispers back in your ear.

By the time you reach the bedroom, his lips are on yours in a delicious and heated kiss. He lets you down from his arms but as soon as your legs reach the floor his hands are on your hips, swaying you from side to side.

"Would you like to dance?" He asks.

"I can't dance…." You look down in embarrassment.

"Everyone can dance." He huffs and walks up to a stereo hidden in his wardrobe. The songs on the old CD give off the exact atmosphere Max wanted. He walks up to you and grabs your hands, leading you to the middle of the room. He lifts your right hand up slightly and places his other hand on your hip, swinging you from side to side to the music. He leans down and rests his head on your shoulder, letting out a deep sigh.

"You won't believe the effect you have on me, Y/N." He mumbles.

You hum and keep slow dancing. When Max lifts his head, he puts his hands on either side of your face and leans in to kiss you. The kiss was heated and turned into a makeout session. You feel your knees becoming weak and Max grabs you to hold you upright. He gives you a tiny nudge to take a couple of steps back and when you feel the edge of the bed behind your legs you collapse on top of it.

Max takes a moment to admire you as you lift yourself on your elbows and pout your lips. He hovers over you, picking your legs up on the way.

"Is this fine? I don't want to hurt you." He asks and you nod as an answer. How in the fuck is this man a mafia boss? You had never been with a man this caring.

He unzips your zipper and slides the dress down your body with your help. The sight he's met with was like something from a wet dream. You, with a naked chest, in front of him lying in his bed. He slips your dress off, pulling your thong off along with it.

"So fijn…" He coos as his hands wander on your body. When his hands land on your bare chest you look up at his wide eyes. Your hands reach for his, grabbing them and holding your breasts with him. You gasp at the feeling of his rugged hands on you sliding along your sides, finding their way lower down. He leans into your heat, giving your clit a light kiss, looking at you for permission to dive in. As soon as you nod, he sticks his tongue out and tastes you. The taste makes him moan out loud. He's sure the guards downstairs can hear his sounds but he doesn't care at the moment.

"Taste so good, princess." He says as he laps his tongue around your clit and down to your pulsating hole, teasing it with his tongue. He continues eating you out as his finger works wonders on your clit. You try to cum quietly but you're unable to when Max sucks your clit into his mouth while adding two fingers into your sopping cunt.

You announce your orgasm, "I'm cumming!" and grab a hold of Max's hair to bring him impossibly closer as you cum all over his face.

"My turn." Max growls and pulls you up on your knees, as he quickly pulls his pants down to his knees. You see the outline of his dick in his underwear. You get the hint and pull his briefs down, and his cock springs out, making your mouth water. It was above average but not too big. He had more girth than length, and the head was pink and… puffy? For lack of a better word.

You instinctively open your mouth and stick your tongue out, giving max full access to your mouth. He doesn't waste a second and sticks his cock into your mouth, hitting the back of your throat instantly. You gag, but he doesn't stop. He wasn't rough per se, he was still attentive and stopped when you started struggling.

"Taking me so well…" He breathes out as he pushes himself into your gape again.

"Do you think you're ready to take my cock?" He asks.

You let his length go with a pop and nod.

He positions you under him, with your legs placed on his shoulders. "Do we need to use protection?" He asks.

"I'm clean and I've got an IUD."

"Good, let me know if I'm too rough."

And with that, he slides his cock through your lips and teases your entrance. Finally, his tip finds its way home, and you yelp out at the feeling of the intrusion. He slowly pushes his whole length into you while you try to breath through the feeling of him stretching you out. He gives you a break for you to adjust to his size.

"You okay?" He checks in.

"Yeah… Please move."

Max slides his length out, leaving only the tip inside of you, and pistons his way inside of you again.

"Oh god… So big." You moan.

He chuckles and increases the pace. You can't help yourself, and moan out in pure enjoyment.

"Shhhh…" He shushes you, putting his hand over your mouth.

He increases the pace even further and you squeeze your eyes shut in another toe-curling orgasm. Max doesn't stop though, and continues destroying your dripping pussy.

"Come here…" He pulls you up and you watch him lie down.You get the hint and get on top. You grab his dick and guide it to your entrance. At this point, you're so wet that it slides in without any resistance.

You start riding his cock at a slow pace, making Max grunt in desperation. He grabs your hips, trying to set a quicker pace but you're having none of it. You slap his hands away and continue at your own pace.

Your pace quickens when you feel Max twitching in you, spilling his seed inside your pussy. He groans out every last drop that he has to give and pulls you down to his chest, peppering your face with kisses as you giggle at his antics.

"I love you." He admits as he stares into your eyes with a warmness in his eyes, something that you hadn't seen before.

When you part, he studies your pussy as his cum drips out, playing with it and stuffing it inside of you again.

You're exhausted after the nights activities and you collapse on the bed, falling asleep within a minute.

You're awakened by birds chirping and chattering. Your vision is blurry but you see the outline of Max on the other side of the bed. You stretch your body and hum happily, having last night's happenings fresh in your mind.

"Come here, Max… It's too early to be up."

It wasn't, but you'd gotten used to sleeping in over the last couple of months.

"Good morning, mijn schat." He coos as he walks over to you, kneeling on the bed. He gives you a quick peck before he pulls on your arm carefully, encouraging you to get up while you grunt, still plagued by exhaustion. "I guarantee pancakes if you get up." You look up at him and spring up from bed, suddenly not feeling tired at all anymore.

When you're done with your morning routine, you walk out of the bathroom and see Max getting dressed, with his back to you. You're shocked to see 5 small dents on his back, making you walk closer to inspect. As you trace your hand along his strong back muscles, he tense up.

"Stop that, Y/N." Max asks sternly.

"Why?" You tease.

"I said stop it!" He turns around and grabs your hands, holding them in his strong hold.

You yelp. "You're hurting me!"

As soon as he hears that, he immediately lets you go. His change in mood makes you take a few steps back in fear.

"I'm so sorry, liefje… I just c-"

"Don't touch me." You warn him holding your pointer finger up.

"Please, let me explain. I'm sure you can guess what those marks are. You see, Y/N, I'm not proud of what I am. Those marks remind me of what a monster I really am."

Your heart melts when you hear the man in front of you talk that way about himself. The usually so hard and masculine man is suddenly small and showing emotion. You see his eyes watering, looking fondly at you.

"Oh, Max…" You walk up and hug him, while he hugs you back with a tight grip.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to hurt you." He sobs into your shoulder.

"I know, I know." You comfort him. You lead him to the bed, making him lie down while you lie down on top of him, grounding the man.

After lying like that for what feels like a minute but surely was more like 10 minutes, Max lifts you up, smiling.

"Thank you, mijn schat. You're so kind to me, despite my flaws. Now, didn't I just promise you pancakes?"

You get up and strut down to the kitchen, smiling and laughing, happy with the fact that Max was making you one of your favourite breakfast dishes. In the end, you had to give him some assistance, men are bad at multitasking, but you didn't mind at all. The teamwork made them taste even better.

The guards are no where to be seen so you and Max get to enjoy your breakfast in piece on the porch, enjoying the view over his garden.

[jennarations]

The Ultimate Lestappen Fic Masterlist ™

Hello all. This list has about 70+ fics within it. That’s just under 1,000,000 words solely dedicated to the Carbonara Leclerc-Verstappens. (yes i counted) I’ve tried to maintain my organization throughout, but if something looks a little janky or feels out of place, let me know. (Lord knows I never made this list thinking I would make it public but alas, here we are) The key is simple:

> (Title) +/= (Multichaptered/One-Shot)

(Summary)

!!! (Link)

• (Tags - please note these are just the tags I saw relevant to myself, double check the fics themselves for any other tags you might deem relevant!) *(Word count)

Now I’ve put a ♥️ next to all of my personal favorites. Remember, this is a masterlist and a fic rec if that’s what you’re looking for. I will never read (or record) any fic that is not up to my personal golden standard; so everything you see below has been read and vetted by yours truly 💋 I will also tag my favorite authors at the bottom of this post so you can go view their pages and send them some love :^) Note: All of these works are on Ao3. There is only one WIP in this list and it is stated with the fic. Now go crazy you animals ;))

(p.s. some of the fic descriptions are quite long, but with respect to the authors wishes I feel that it would be a dishonesty to chop them off though so you’ll have to deal with it) Here we go!!!!!!!! (under the Read More)

> Home (Is Wherever I’m With You) + ♥️

Or: Charles leaves Ferrari, tries to win a championship, and learns some things about belonging. All the while, Max is there.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/40801053/chapters/102234501

• Angst, Fluff, Red Bull!Charles *17.9k

> On The Limit = (Series - Objects in the Mirror) ♥️

Two Formula 1 drivers walk into a bar and accidentally have a heart-to-heart.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/43252263

• Angst, Heart to Heart *6.8k

> Leave No Space = (Series - Objects in the Mirror)

Max Verstappen fucks men sometimes. Charles struggles to cope.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/43505271

• Falling in Love, Charles is depressed, Charles is moving to Red Bull *31.7k

> All To Play For = (End of Series - Objects in the Mirror)

Charles Leclerc is not at Red Bull to win races. He is here to win championships.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/46910503

• Nasty Breakup w/ Happy Ending, Charles is so depressed, Pain, Angst, Red Bull!Charles *49.3k

> I Think There’s Been a Glitch = (Series)

or: Max sits on Hüllkenberg’s lap during a press conference. Charles is decidedly Not Normal about it.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/46107499

• Teasing, Crush, First Time, Charles POV, Bottom!Max *5.5k

> Room 309 = (End of Series)

or: what happens in room 309

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/46397647

• Max’s POV, Smut *8.2k

> Undress Me to the Naked Truth =

or: Charles and Max celebrate post-Austria 2022

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/46761448

• Smut, Established Relationship, Bottom!Max *6.8k

> The Rest is Unwritten =

Max ran, like his husbands life depended on it.

Weaving his way around the paddock, murmurs of a black flag and unresponsive boring through the crowds. All he could do was get to Charles.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/46203964#main

• Angst, Husbands, Crash *1.5k

> Monaco Malaise = (Series)

Max and Charles have been hooking up for a few months, casually, no string attached — definitely no feelings involved…

The disaster that was Monaco 2021 sees them in Charles’ apartment, with Max having to deal with the fact that Charles can’t get out of his head.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/43192021#main

• Smut, Slight Angst, Slight Fluff *8k

> Azerbaijan Abnegation = (End of Series)

After Monaco, Max thought he’d made up his mind about Charles, and their little arrangement.

They’re in Azerbaijan and Charles is everywhere: in his head, in his messages, in his hotel room…

Will Max be able to hold onto his resolve, or will his attempts at self-denial only prolong the inevitable?

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/46781737/chapters/117829006#workskin

• Angst, Smut *16.9k

> Ribs =

He wakes up all weird on Monday. Charles can feel it the moment he opens his eyes. It’s like an odd weight on his chest that evolves into something a lot more achy and sharp emanating down his torso as he starts crawling out of bed.

Or: Charles injures himself before the last race of the season. The only option is to power through it.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/44784424#main

• Fluff, Established Relationship, WDC!Charles *2.6k

> You Could Call Me Babe For the Weekend + ♥️

Or: There are lots of ways to love Charles Leclerc, Max maybe learns all of them through the years.

Featuring: puddles, stargazing, unsolicited driving lessons, and the overwhelming fear of growing up.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/42042690/chapters/105559215#workskin

• Angst, Teenagers, Falling in Love *12.3k

> Got Your Tongue =

It’s the middle of the night, there’s a stray cat in Charles’ bedroom, and only one person he can think of to help him. The rest is just a misunderstanding.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/46854709?view_adult=true#main

• Fluff *2.9k

> Do You Want Me (Dead)? =

When Charles accidentally comes out to Max it shouldn’t really change anything. It doesn’t change anything.

Until it does. In fact, it changes everything.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/44626003#main

• Angst, Pining, Fluff, Happy Ending, FIFA in Suzuka *12.5k

> How to Babygirl-ify Your Boyfriend: A Comprehensive Guide by Charles Leclerc =

Charles sees someone on the internet call Max babygirl. He’s instantly obsessed.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/45295756?view_adult=true#main

• Smut, Fluff, Bottom!Max *4.5k

> Silly Me (For Falling in Love With You) = ♥️

“We’re not asking you to ‘woo’ him,” Christian says, looking pained at having to say the word ‘woo’, “We just need others to think you’ve wooed him.”

“I’m not following,” Max says, frowning.

“A PR relationship,” Poppy explains. “You pretend to date, making the public think you’re all happy and in love. Then you reap the benefits of being in a relationship without actually having to put in the effort or work.”

“Absolutely not,” Max says, crossing his arms over his chest. “That’s depressing, I’m not doing that.”

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/44464324#main

• Fluff, Angst, Fake Relationship, Non-F1!Charles *18.3k

> Glitch + ♥️

Max hums. “Well, at least that means I won’t bump into Charles Leclerc again.”

“Bummer, really,” Daniel says, moving back to his own seat and drinking the little bit of coffee that was still in the cup. “Could’ve been the start of a great love story.”

Lando snorts. “Kids, it all started when I told your father, who had won two World Driver Championships at that point, that he sucked at driving.”

Max sticks his middle finger up at them, and pulls his noise canceling headphones back over his ears. Only two hours left to go, he thinks, wistfully, and goes back to work.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/46316224/chapters/116609527

• Angst, Fluff, Funny, Programmer!Max *26.6k

> Heart On Your Sleeve =

The thing about having a racing helmet that constantly displays your emotions for the whole world to see, is that you kind of get used to it after a while. These days Charles almost forgets it’s even a thing.

Almost.

But then he goes and falls in love.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/45717973#main

• Pining, Magical Realism *4.8k

> You Can Hear It In the Silence =

Or, the five times Max and Charles accidentally fall asleep together, and the one time they do it on purpose.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/43882683#main

• Pining, Sleep trope, Fluff *7.4k

> You’ll be Alright = ♥️

Charles is not an idiot. He knows there’s a part of him that has been at least a little bit in love with Max for as long as they’ve known each other. But he’s always been able to shove it down. Burying it under rivalries and competitiveness until it was getting hard to differentiate between love and hate. And that had worked, for a really long time.

And then Max had to go and barge into his life and be really fucking cute with his baby.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/45348790#main

• Kidfic, Fluff, Slight Angst, Max is great with kids, Falling in Love *19.2k

> Maximum Formula =

“Welcome back to another episode of Maximum Formula, I’m your host, Emilian, and this is the first episode for the F1 2022 season. There will be plenty to talk about, but first I’d like to introduce our first guest of the season: Charles Leclerc. Welcome to the show, Charles.”

Or, Charles tries to become a world champion with Ferrari.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/45691483#main

• Angst, Falling in Love, Podcast!Max, Identity Hiding *20.4k

> Violent Delights +

Max can’t smell any of his usual aggression beneath the unusual spatter of Omega, sweet yet violent, and it makes his head spin.

“Max,” is all Charles says, voice breathless. He looks over his shoulder, quick, hasty, looks back. His eyes are wider, if possible. “We have— we have fucked up, I think.”

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/41445333#main

• A/B/O, Alpha!Max, Alpha!Charles turns into Omega!Charles *15.5k

> Petrol =

Max scoffs. He steps closer, smile a little real. It lets Charles see the tiny freckle on his lip, dark and undying, always zoomed in on when his face is in HD. Chuckling, Max scratches at his stubble. “I didn’t know you liked Red Bull.”

Automatically, Charles corrects, “I hate it.” It says too much.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/41359482#main

• Smut, Angst, Denial, Bottom!Max *4.2k

> It All Reminds Me of You =

Pierre turns, and with him, the object of his distasteful frown. “Why do you have a Red Bull cap in your apartment?”

Charles tenses. He looks between Pierre and the cap, still held tepid between two fingers, dark blue and flat-brimmed and garishly branded with a sick sense of obvious. It feels wrong, just looking at it. There’s a big red 1 emblazoned on the front.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/40279869#main

• Angst, Smut, Secret Relationship, Switch!Max, Switch!Charles *3k

> Proximity =

These kinds of smiles on Max are reserved for other people. Like Daniel, like Lando, like those Dutch guys that come around sometimes and he likes to yell with.

Not Charles.

It’s probably the fourth time Max is acting noticeably strange around him that he notices the freckle on his lip.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/40737591#main

• Angst, Smut *6.7k

> Want It Good Want It All =

When Max puts the disc into the cartridge of his PS4 he isn't sure what to expect.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/43761192#main

• Sex tape, Masturbation *2.1k

> Algorithm + ♥️

Tired of all the internal team conflicts, the F1 powers-that-be have developed a simulation-based compatibility test for drivers and their teammates.

or

Five times Max doesn’t find the right partner and one time he does.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/29561109/chapters/72650025#workskin

• Magical Realism, Compatibility Simulations, Fluff, Slight Angst, Some Maxiel in the beginning *16.9k

> In the Dark You Can’t See Shiny Cars +

In the summer of 2022, the quiet neighbourhood of Les Amants in Monaco becomes the epicentre of a strange weather phenomenon.

or

A dark cloud hangs over Charles’ head—unfortunately not just a metaphorical one. Max sets out to investigate.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/41147001/chapters/103144245

• Magical Realism, Charles accidentally controls the weather, Fluff, Slight Angst *14.5k

> Panem et Circenses =

Panem et circenses, the Romans called it. Bread and circus to appease the people.

The bread is always in short supply these days, ever since the wheat fields burned down. So that just leaves-

“The brave new world of Formula One,” Crofty’s voice comes out distorted from the circuit speakers. “Ten teams. Twenty cars. An auspicious new technical programme that combines the top edge AI technology with the most skilled drivers to deliver the best spectacle ever seen.”

-

In a dystopian near-future, Charles and Max drive for survival.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/40704441#main

• Dystopian future, Sentient F1 cars, oppressive Regime, Hope, Angst, Falling in Love *13.2k

> Every Other Sunday + ♥️

The grainy pictures are pieced together like a crude comic strip, sketching a poorly thought-out narrative arc that somehow made it onto the front page of every sleazy newspaper.

EXPOSED!: The secret gay double-life of F1 driver Max Verstappen

-

Max navigates the aftermath of being outed in the press, and Charles is always there.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/34827223/chapters/86722561

• Slight Angst, Fluff, Smut, Max has been outed, Charles does some soul searching, Motorhome club, F1 family antics *34.5k

> Soak Up the Sun =

“What do you think?” Charles asks, leaning back into the seat as he turns the laptop so Max can see the options.

“I think—” Max starts, “—that this can wait until after FP1.”

Charles’s lips curl downwards, and Max wants to kiss the look off his face. “There’s still like an hour until it starts. There’s no one even looking for me yet.”

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/collections/Lestappen_Summer_Exchange_2022/works/40998603#main

• Fluff, Non-Linear timeline, Getting together *6.8k

> Like a Prayer =

It was sinful to have such thoughts but then Charles had never been one to shy away from sinful desires. Stood at the alter the priest looked glowing, his strong cheekbones and jawline illuminated by a wash of colour. Charles’ gaze followed the beams of light back to the stained glass, he tried not to think too long about the image of Christ etched on to the window. This was a sacred place, but there could be nothing more deserving of veneration than the God who had so kindly sculpted the body of Father Verstappen.

Or

Charles is an F1 driver and Max is a sexy priest.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/collections/Formula_One_Kinkmeme_Round_One/works/44838136#main

• Smut, Religion, Priest!Max *3.2k

> We Go Way Back =

They were the same in the end. Yes, Max was an alpha, and Charles was an omega, but that didn’t matter. If you took racing from either of them, there wouldn’t be anything left.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/43936200?view_adult=true#main

• A/B/O, Alpha!Max, Omega!Charles, Smut, Fluff *13.8k

> Close Proximity =

A hotel mix-up forces Max and Charles to share a room. There is only one bed.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/collections/Formula_One_Kinkmeme_Round_One/works/44503150?view_adult=true#main

• Smut, One bed trope *3.5k

> Pens, fingers and most definitely cock ... a random list of things Max likes to put in his mouth =

Max has an oral fixation, Charles is happy to oblige. This is a story of their developing relationship as told through the things Max likes to put in his mouth!

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/collections/Formula_One_Kinkmeme_Round_One/works/44205019#main

• Oral fixation kink, Smut, Fluff *2.7k

> FIA Approved Stress Relief =

It’s the strangest briefing Charles has ever been a part of. Ever. Which is saying something because this time last year he was sat wide eyed as the Fia tried to bring in mandatory checks for Fia approved underwear and intimate piercings. A few team principles had helpfully offered their services and it had ended in a rather heated debate over whether that fell under their job description.

It didn’t compare to this though.

As director of the GPDA it’s been left to George to run through the basics of the brand new Fia approved sex doll. Charles was sure he had misheard but no, as it turns out, the Fia really have lost their minds.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/collections/Formula_One_Kinkmeme_Round_One/works/44059752?view_adult=true#main

• Sex Doll, Smut, Pining, Voyeurism *2.3k

> Long Live (The Walls We Crashed Through) + ♥️

“What are you doing?” Charles asked, his voice cracking.

Max blinked at him once before he smirked and said, “Well... I was going to kiss you.”

“Why?”

“Because I want to.”

“Why?” Charles repeated, feeling like his legs were going to give out.

“Is that not a good enough reason?” Max asked.

OR: The childhood best friends to lovers fairy-tale-soulmates fic that nobody asked for. Charles has been in love with Max since he was seven years old.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/46190509/chapters/116284681

• Fluff, Smut, Best friends to lovers, Slight Angst *76.8k

> Viva la Miami =

Max raced all over the world and was used to different climates. But there was something about Miami’s sticky, muggy, make-your-phone-screen-fog-up kind of scorching heat that made him feel fucking crazy.

It made him want to strip naked and jump in the bright blue water surrounding his hotel.

It made him want to fuck.

OR: Max and Charles hook up for the first time, and it's very different than what Max had pictured.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/46963513#main

• Smut, PWP, Top!Charles *8.2k

> I’ll Be Right Beside You = ♥️

Max stared at Charles’ closed eyes and how they twitched in his sleep. Objectively, Max knew that Charles was probably the most beautiful man he had ever seen. But... this was Charles.

Charles Leclerc.

Big, cry-baby Charles.

Sauber #2 driver Charles.

When did he decide that Charles The Driver would become Charles The Boyfriend?

He wishes he could remember.

OR: The self-indulgent Amnesia AU that nobody asked for. This is my love story to Charles Leclerc, thank you for coming along. Warning: this fic may break you.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/42990660#main

• Amnesia, Graphic Accident, Angst, Pain, Fluff, Smut *50.7k

> Breathe You In (Like a Vapor) =

OR: the self-indulgent story of how Charles and Max fell in love over winter break 2022, in a classic Enemies to Friends With Benefits to Lovers fic that nobody asked for.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/45079192?view_adult=true#main

• Smut, Fluff, Falling in Love *53k

> And That’s How I Foksmashed Dad’s Championship Trophy =

All of that would have been forgivable if not for the Green-Eyed Monster’s complete disregard for the pre-contracted occupation rights of Max’s lap. Such rights had long been pre-determined and belonged to Sassy (and occasionally to Jimmy, she admitted begrudgingly). However, no amount of quiet hisses and vicious glares seemed to penetrate the creature’s thick skull, and he would greedily occupy Max’s thigh for more than 95% of any given afternoon. Sometimes with his head, sometimes with his feet, and a few times he even straddled his entire body over Max; the latter could not have been comfortable for Max, as the Green-Eyed Monster was enormously overweight compared to Sassy.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/43833321#main

• Fluff, POV!Sassy and Jimmy, Funny *6.5k

> Set My Midnight Sorrow Free =

He doesn’t blame Max, not really.

If he could have Charles for one night, he would never let him go either.

Maybe he isn’t the one who is losing; Max is also playing a losing game.

You can’t open yourself to Charles and try to exist in his charmed life without becoming irrevocably enamoured.

When Max let Charles walk into his motorhome, when he let Charles slip into his existence, Max didn’t know it then but the battle was already lost.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/31552340#main

• Angst, POV!Pierre, Falling in Love, Jealousy/Pining *13.4k

> All of You, All of Me (Intertwined) =

Or, two future teammates get high, get on Mattia Binotto's wrong side through an inadvisable escapade involving fairy lights, get on a plane, and get a stuffed armadillo named Chax. In that order.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/42627222#main

• Fluff, Slight Angst, FWB to Lovers, Future Red Bull!Charles *12.8k

> The Grid: A Comprehensive Guide for Handling your Gay Racer Friends =

Or, Charles and Max, and the handbook birthed from their idiocy. Featuring a large number of baked goods.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/33291136#main

• Fluff, Humor, Friends *6.3k

> we're fallin' like the stars, we're fallin' in love = ♥️

"So, do we need a signal for when things are going downhill and you need me to save you?" He asks, a glimmer in his eyes that seems so unfamiliar yet familiar that Max feels it like a sucker punch to the stomach.

"Just have the vodka waiting." Max laughs, flicking his gaze down to the gentle grip that Charles has his wrist in before he releases and Max turns around with pink cheeks and crosses the restaurant to join up with his date once again.

(Lando sets Max up on disastrous blind dates that end up with Max falling for the bartender who was the real set up all along.)

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/27047056/chapters/66033652?show_comments=true&view_full_work=false#comment_668986186

• Fluff, Non-Driver AU, Blind dates, Bartender!Charles *8.7k

> Pick Apart the Pieces of Your Heart =

"I reckon-" George says in-between scenes, "- that Charles is Gatsby."

Lando tilts his head back to clock Max's reaction but it's nothing except confusion etched on his face as he scrunches his nose up trying to figure out what George means,

George holds his hand up and continues to explain, "Gatsby threw all these big parties in the hope that Daisy would go to one of them, right? Charles throws a party every other day and I think it's because he wants you to go." He says to Max

alternatively, Charles is Max's nightmare neighbour until he's something much more than that.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/25489348/chapters/61832617?show_comments=true&view_full_work=false#main

• Fluff, Angst, Non-Driver AU, Apartment neighbor AU *6.3k

> We’re Making Gold Dust = (Series)

They’re carefully walking, skipping and hauling themselves across any gaps. The morning air feels crisp and fills Charles’ lungs until it hurts, but god, it hurts in the best way that it’s ever hurt him before. He takes pictures, videos but tries to remember the feeling most of all.

It feels like home.

The best people, the best places, the height, the element of danger, it’s everything that Charles hadn’t imagined his life to be five years ago but maybe it’s right after all.

alternatively, a fascination discovered at fifteen leads to love, trust and healing whilst breaking the rules and climbing things that aren't supposed to be climbed.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/24374812#main

• Angst, Non-Driver AU, Parkour AU, Falling in Love *13k

> Two Burning Hearts (It Would Last Forever) =

In the end, it does turn out that your soulmate can be the person you least expect and neither of them don’t think it could have been anybody else.

alternatively, Charles and Max are soulmates and for the most part, they hate it but should have seen it coming.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/23363920#main

• Soulmate AU, Angst *2.5k

> All the Lights (Couldn’t Put Out the Dark) = (Series - The Warming Verse)

“Charles,” Max said, his tone soft again and breaking Charles of his thoughts. “Please just ask me for whatever you want to ask me. You don’t have to keep explaining yourself.”

Charles laughed again, his cheeks bright red.

“Could I... sit on your cock for a little bit?”

OR: Charles is overwhelmed and wants Max to make it better.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/46165159#main

• PWP, Cock Warming, Feelings *7.5k

> The Right Place (The Right Time) = (Series - The Warming Verse)

“Charles,” Max said, his tone gentle.

Charles didn’t move his hands away from his face.

“Hey... look at me,” Max said softly.

Charles took a deep breath and finally let his hands fall.

Max looked at him for a long moment, their eyes locked together before he asked, “Would my cock help?”

OR: In the aftermath of the shit show that was Melbourne, Charles turns to Max for comfort.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/46332700#main

• PWP, Cock Warming *9.7k

> Something New (Let’s Not Get Complicated) + (Series - The Warming Verse)

Max smiled at him, his expression soft despite how hard he was against Charles’ hip.

“Pretty boy,” Max mused, brushing Charles’ hair out of his eyes.

“Shut up,” Charles huffed, flushing bright red. It only made Max smile harder.

“You’re even prettier when you tell me to shut up.”

“Shut the hell up, Max,” Charles squeaked.

OR: Charles and Max finally talk about their Feelings™

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/46896289/chapters/118129207#workskin

• PWP, Cock Warming, Size Kink, Dom/subspace, Daddy kink *31.7k

—Please note there may be more works in The Warming Verse, I may not be caught up***

> Fair Winds and Following Seas = ♥️

Max lets out an impatient sigh and looks at Lando as he washes the shot glass before putting it back. “Well who is it?”

Lando rolls his eyes. “You’re no fun.”

“I’m delightful, now come on,” Max presses, trying not to show he’s getting curious. “Who is this mystery person?”

“Charles Leclerc!” Lando says with a bright smile, he’s almost jumping up and down with excitement. “He’s chartering the yacht for the week!”

“Charles Leclerc?” Max repeats, raising an eyebrow. “The Charles Leclerc, F1 driver for Ferrari, is here?”

Or

Max works on a super yacht during the summer to make some money to invest in his sim racing career and Charles happens to charter it for the week.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/48088906/chapters/121258555?show_comments=true&view_full_work=false#comment_671144260

• Non Driver!Max, Yacht shenanigans, Fluff, Slight Angst, Mentions of Smut *24.8k

> Carry Me in Your Heart (You Know You’re Never Gonna Leave Mine) =

“You are the reason he started learning German?!” Lorenzo practically gasps, honest-to-god glee on his features. Charles hates him.

“But Max is Dutch,” Arthur says.

Charles groans, his hands trailing in front of his face in an effort to disappear from the situation.

-

AU where you can sometimes see through your soulmate's eyes.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/42022176?view_adult=true#main

• Soulmate!AU, Growing up together, Angst, Harsh breakup, Angst with a happy ending *30.2k

> No Brakes On = ♥️

Max is a race car driver. Charles is a movie star. They really shouldn't work, but they do.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/48170218#main

• Actor!Charles, Slight Angst, Character study, Fluff, Strangers to lovers *32.5k

> Lost In Your Current Like a Priceless Wine =

"What did you just say?" Max asks in a flat voice and Charles gives him a strained smile.

"I might have accidentally told my mom that I have a boyfriend and now she's demanding that I bring you home with me for the New Year. Actually, she said Christmas and New Year, but I told her that you were spending Christmas with your own family..."

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/28535271

• Fake dating, Non-Driver AU, College AU, Fluff, Slight Angst *10.2k

> You Got Me =

When Max looks up he stares into pretty green eyes behind black rimmed glasses. His hand is still blindly feeling around to find the books—his brain lagging—as he stares at the guy from last night. He straightens up and Max follows, staring dumbly as he holds out the books for Max to take.

“Thanks,” Max says, feeling like an idiot as he takes the books, their fingers brushing for a split second. This was not how he wanted to meet again. “Again, I’m so sorry.”

The guy smiles and Max thinks he might just die a little when he notices he has dimples. Of course he has dimples.

Or

Max falls head over heels for the cute guy at a college party and he can't stop thinking about him (aka the lestappen college au nobody needs).

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/49182076#main

• College AU, Fluff *16.6k

> This Feels Like Falling in Love =

Five kisses throughout their lives, and the one that started it all.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/49162735/chapters/124043815?

• Podfic, 4+1 fic, Kid fic *3k

> Closest I Get = (Series)

“It doesn’t have to be a big deal or anything, right? It can be just about sex, nothing else.” Charles steps forward, into Max’s space. Reaches out a hand, lets it run over Max’s cheek, leans a little closer. “Just sex,” he whispers, in the ever diminishing space between them as Max leans into his touch.

“Fuck,” Max whispers, screwing his eyes shut, breathing deeply through his mouth. “I shouldn’t, I really shouldn’t-“

Charles cuts him off by lurching forward and pressing a kiss to Max’s mouth, quick and fleeting, but then Max groans, grabs Charles’s waist, pulls him closer, kisses him hard. Charles melts into it immediately, overwhelmed by Max’s scent, by his hands on Charles’s waist, his mouth on Charles’s.

It’s like something clicks into place, when they kiss.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/49230871#main

• A/B/O, Alpha!Max, Omega!Charles, PWP, Angst *4.8k

> Heart Held Close = (End of Series)

“Just sex,” Charles whispers in his ear, and he’s coming closer closer closer and Max is getting swallowed by the sun, Charles’s smell bright and enticing and all around him.

Max let’s out a heartfelt, “Fuck,” as he feels himself tipping forward ever so slightly, his rut dumb brain taking over, ignoring the little voice in the back of his head that is still screaming at him that this is a terrible idea. “I shouldn’t, I really shouldn’t-“ He tries, but it’s weak at best.

And then Charles kisses him, and it’s all over.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/49276354#main

• A/B/O, Smut, Angst, Happy Ending *7.8k

> A Force More Powerful Than Gravity =

Charles studies goop in his lab. Goop is actually a very attractive alien.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/collections/LestappenWeekSummer2023/works/49302043#main

• Non-Driver AU, Alien!Max, Scientist!Charles, Fluff, Slight Angst *4.5k

> Give Yourself Up To Me =

For the safety of his people, Crown Prince Charles is willing to do anything.

Anything.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/49300402/chapters/124403428?

• Non-Driver AU, Royalty AU, Angst *1.5k

> Amazing Grace =

“I win!” Charles announces when he has Max pinned to the ground by his wrists, a wild grin on his lips. His chest is heaving, there’s some dirt on his cheek and in his hair, and Max can’t help but grin up at him.

“No you don’t,” He argues, mirth in his eyes. “You only win when you capture my sword!”

-

They're teenagers. And then they're not.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/49325872/chapters/124469185?

• Non-Driver AU, Swordsmen AU, Angst *1.5k

> Red Bull’s Golden Puppy =

In a memory box tucked away deep in their minds, Charles, Max and Chloe Leclerc-Verstappen, share their biggest memories and photographs. Adopting a pet named after the original Red Bull golden boy Sebastian Vettel would soon join that club.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/collections/LestappenWeekSummer2023/works/49313617#main

• Kid!fic, Future family, Established Relationship, Fluff *1.4k

> This Love Asylum =

“Are we still having dinner with your mother?,” Max asked, his arm still on Charles’s waist, Sebastian’s low whistle now hard to miss. “I didn’t know you went to dinner with the Leclercs.”

“Hmm? Oh yeah, I do! My mum told Pascale I was only having takeout when I’m here. It worries her, you know? So when we’re here, I’m supposed to have dinner with Charlie and his mum at least once a wee—ow! Hey!” Charles had elbowed Max, causing the latter the pout while another pout was already on Charles’s face.

“I didn’t know Sophie and Pascale were friends either,” Sebastian was having the time of his life and Max being oblivious about Charles’s whole situation was the icing on the proverbial cake.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/collections/LestappenWeekSummer2023/works/49312864#main

• Fluff, Sebastian!POV *1.5k

> Dangerous Games =

Too late, Charles realises he’s been standing rooted in his spot, and Max looks over his shoulder, a questioning look on his face, “Is everything al—,”

“Suck my dick.” Charles blurts out.

Max’s eyebrows shoot up. Charles’ cheeks are bright red. “What?”

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/collections/LestappenWeekSummer2023/works/49276297#main

• Non-Driver AUCollege AU, Blowjob, Slight Smut *1.9k

> Eighteenth Summer =

Max wanted to burn it into his memory, engrave bits and pieces of it into each of his senses. The way the blue sky reflected off of Charles’s massive sunglasses, the smell of the hot asphalt mixing with Charles’s cologne, the nearly hysterical sound of their laughter as their playlist finally shuffled to Mr. Brightside; everything felt so precious. So fleeting. Moments memorialized on the 101 northbound, flying out of their open windows and away from his greedy fingers.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/49253491/chapters/124280527?

• Fluff, Angst, Happy Ending, Summer in California, High School AU *5k

> Middle Child Syndrome +

After all, Charles being a middle child always made a lot of sense to Max.

Max’s unwillingness to deny Charles anything always made a little less sense to Max.

Standing on the third place podium beneath the Monegasque flag made a lot less sense to Max.

The fact that he wasn’t mad about it, a warm sense of acquiescence spurred by Charles’s smile, made it all click.

He was in love with Charles Leclerc, and he always had been.

Or: A small collection of memories leading up to a realization on the podium of Baku 2023

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/46979311/chapters/118348648#workskin

• Fluff, Realization of Feelings *3.6k

> Rules of Engagement =

“Take me with you then!” Max felt his eyes go wide, his jaw literally dropping at the suggestion. “Tell them I’m like. Say I’m your fiancé, mate.”

The heat had melted Charles’s brain, Max decided, staring at him blankly.

“No.” He deadpanned.

“Mate it’s genius! You won’t have to do anything, just stand there. Let me handle it. Them. The women.”

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/49006156#main

• Fake Relationship, Roommates, Non-Driver AU, Socially inept!Max *7.2k

> All the Stars We Cannot See = ♥️

Sitting on his roof, bathed in wintery silence, Max prayed to be rescued. To whom, he wasn’t sure. Maybe the force that branded his wrist, the universal power that decided who to tie him with forever. Perfectly. Something like fate.

Max prayed to fate, then.

“Am I interrupting something?” The man’s accent was French, his tone unusually assertive for a question of intrusion.

“It’s not my roof,” Max shrugged, hopping back onto the ledge.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/49182697/chapters/124096612?

• Soulmate AU, Non-Driver!Charles, Mentions of Child Abuse, Mentions of Sickness, Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Happy Ending *9.8k

> Lie to Me =

5 times they told the truth + 1 time they tried to lie

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/49206214?view_adult=true#main

• Soulmates AU, Angst, Smut *5.3k

> Shut Up and Drive +

Max pointed at Charles’ bags. ‘Is this all you're bringing or will there be more?��

Oh so he was making fun of him now, well Charles could do the same. ‘You mean more than the four white t-shirts you brought?’

Max blinked at him for a couple of seconds before his entire face lit up and he giggled. He giggled.

‘Good one, and I actually brought five t-shirts,’ Max replied, still smiling.

Was he serious? Charles hoped not.

OR: Charles and Max are 'forced' to go on a road trip together, whatever could go wrong?

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/49181029/chapters/124092070#workskin

• Road-trip, One bed trope, Enemies to Lovers, WIP *

> Partiality =

“Okay, this is—,” Max stops himself. His eyebrows knit together and he’s obviously frustrated with something. “I know this isn’t what you wanted,” He says slowly, when he gathers his thoughts. “But I’m not going to force you to treat me like your—,” Max makes a face. “Your alpha.”

Charles coughs. “But… You are.” He points out.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/49230259?view_adult=true#main

• A/B/O, Alpha!Max, Omega!Charles, Fluff *2.4k

> You Went, and It Was Night =

“I can hear you thinking from here,” Max says suddenly. His voice sounds husky, used, wrecked. It sends a shiver down Charles’ spine. He did that. “You’re being very loud.”

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/49182070/chapters/124095055?

• Slight Angst, Fluff, Charles is thinking *900 words

> Sort You Out (Heart Out Series) =

Charles can't tell which is worse — that he can't remember the sex he had with his childhood rival, or how according to her, it wasn't even good.

!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/49340395/chapters/124508077?

• Girl!Max, Pining Charles, Slight smut *6.3k

Here are some of the best authors in the Lestappen field. Please go follow and send them some love!! They are doing the Lord’s work!!!!!!

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@drivestraight (Linearity on Ao3)

@fabbyf1 (Fabby on Ao3)

@charlescoded (lazarusgreeneyes on Ao3)

@fueledbyremembering (NovaCloud on Ao3)

@wanderingblindly (Wanderingblindly on Ao3)

@hoewedeshummels (Monzas on Ao3)

-Only Ao3 username is known-

Actparci

Anney

*Authors, if you want to be untagged, or you want your fics pulled from the list, shoot me a dm :)

[bunny-jpeg]

dutchman's tongue

max versappen

cw: oral/fingering (femme receiving), afab!reader, loosely translated dutch and french (it's been a while since i spoke it), doggy style, unprotected sex,

bunny says: congrats on the win last week max! it's good to make use of my ability to speak/write in dutch and french (although a lil rusty!)

max had a way with his tongue. growing up in belguim there are three official languages but the two being french and dutch. you found his linguistic talents very interesting.

a lot of the time it was quite comically, he'll know the word in english, but somewhere along the way of thinking it, it'll get translated into one of the other languages we spoke.

"that thing." he snapped his fingers. he squeezed his eye shut to think of the word, "come on."

you looked at him, not even know what he was thinking.

"chou-fleur."

"cauliflower?" you replied.

he nodded, "yes!" he smiled at you. you had picked up a rough estimate of the other languages he spoke. while your conversations were mostly in english, you tried to impress him with your own linguistic abilities.

he smiled and kiss the top of your head, "good job, schatje! i am so proud of you." then took you by the cheeks to kiss them.

but also max was good at other things with his tongue. you found out early on in your relationship that he quite enjoyed going down on you. he loved your thighs around his head as he lapped and finger-fucked your pussy.

it was the morning after the canadian grand prix. it was cloudy and cool out, the window to your hotel room was open. you laid in a mess of pillows and blankets with your lover. you were laid next to him.

last night was fun, montreal was the city to be if you wanted to party. but the morning after you felt tired all over. max's nose was in your hair and basically snoring in your ear. you rolled over and got closer to his side.

you yawned and lifted your head to gaze down at him. you reached out and cupped the side of his face with affection. he was the winner after all, it was no strong feat given how the weather was.

"good morning." you said as you leaned in and kissed him on the cheek. his soft skin against your lips made your heart leap.

his eyes open slowly, his tongue was loose when he said, "goedemorgen, mijn schat." his hand reached for you and patted the side of your face. he looked more tired than you did.

"i guess we had some fun last night."

he nodded and yawned, "we did."

you kissed the side of his face and got up out of bed. the exhaustion hung heavy on your shoulders as you got up. but you weren't up for long as max took you by the wrist and brought you back into bed.

"max!" you yelped but were soon met by cuddles from your boyfriend. his arms wrapped around you middle and his nose dipped into your neck.

"où penses-tu aller?" his asked slowly, his hands started to touched your nude body, "j'espère que tu n'essayes pas de t'enfuir, mon amour?"

you looked behind you to glance at him, "are you trying to seduce me?"

"i am simply asking where you are going, my love. i am hoping you aren't running away from me." he rested his chin on your shoulder, "we have the whole day to ourselves."

"no we don't, you have to do interviews." you recalled.

he groaned, "and i can't stay all day in bed with you."

"nursing a hangover."

"no, no." he kissed your cheek, "to be so close to you." his cock pressed against your back, "you looked amazing last night, all dolled up for me. you were beautiful, mon amour."

you reached over, with max still clinging to you, and looked at your phone, it was still early enough. you put the phone down and turned in his arms so you were facing one another. you placed both hands on his bared chest and leaned in for a kiss.

"we have two hours before you have to get ready. i can get you something for your head... or i can give you head?"

he grinned at you, those blue eyes looked into yours. he replied, "actually, i was thinking i could... go down on you inside." he winked.

"max."

"i got all the celebration i wanted last night. i want to give you something in return. for being there, always." he let go of you and with your help got between your legs with your thighs around his head.

he rested his chin on your stomach and gazed at you. you tried not to feel self conscious about the angle of your face. but he continued to gaze at you like he had hearts in his eyes.

"i probably have the worst double-chin right now."

he shook his head, "who cares, you're still the most beautiful woman in the world." he rubbed his face against your abdomen like he was trying to his scent all over you. sometimes he'd do this thing where he'd ramble in dutch or french, he knew you weren't exactly catching what he was saying.

he started to speak about something in french as he got between your legs, your thighs now on his shoulders. the softness of them were against his ears as he leaned in to your cunt.

"et puis je t'ai vu dans les tribunes, les cheveux au vent. et je savais que je devais gagner. ce serait la seule façon de te rendre fier, mon amour. je te vois et je perds toute notion du temps. rien d'autre ne compte sauf te voir." he rambled before he lined his tongue up with your slit, he gave you one last look as he said, "je vous aime." then gave your pussy as sweet kiss before he started to lap at your sex.

you felt heat in your cheeks as he held your thighs on his shoulders. his tongue continued to pleasure you as you squirmed on the bed. he was keeping you pinned to him.

"ah, ah, ah." he said, "stay still." then continued his movements against your cunt. you could feel the burn in your cheek the more pleasure raced up your spine.

your breathing started to get heavier. pleasure coursed through your body the more than he pleasured you orally. you could admit easily that he was rather impressive when it went to going down on you.

you knew he was still running on the high of the race, his own head was racing as your thighs clenched around his head. you gripped onto his dark hair and moaned loudly.

"tu aimes ça, mon amour ? est-ce que tu aimes la façon dont je te fais plaisir?" his own cheeks were stained pink as your wetness clung to his chin.

"oh my god." you groaned, "why does it sound so fucking hot."

he kissed your inner thigh and looked up at you, "because you know how good i am with my tongue." then dragged his tongue across your inner thigh that made your toes curl.

he kept one hand on your left thigh and the other hand between your legs. he began his motions once more but this time adding his fingers. he sank them easily into your hole as he played with your clit against his tongue. occasionally his front teeth grazed against it and you moaned louder.

the rush of pleasure continued to course through your body, the more he played with you. he occasionally looked up at you to get a good look at the expressions you were making.

he gripped your thigh with love as he felt your cunt clench around his fingers inside of you.

"please, max!" you whimpered as you pressed your thighs closely around his head. you panted and moaned, the pleasure was overwhelming.

and he kept pleasuring you, he kept at it. with an endurance and focus that let him with the race the day prior. his cock throbbed between his legs, pressed against the bed as he focused on your pleasure.

"max, fuck."

"blijf stil, mijn liefste." he said softly, switching up the languages to see how you'd react.

it didn't take long before pleasure washed over you. your body clenched as the rust hit your brain and pooled in your stomach. with tugged on your hair and kicked out your legs before you felt the hit of it all.

you laid there on the bed and he pulled his head from between your legs and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. those blue eyes gazed at you with such affection.

he got out from between your legs, "not it's time for my turn, mijn liefje." he rested on his heels and looked down at you, his cock stood at full attention.

you looked at him, with lust in your gaze. you let your lover turn you onto your hands and knees. your face was buried in the pillow with your ass in the air.

"my love." he said with a heat in his voice. your cunt was on full display to him. the rush of blood to his cheeks was noticeable as he got behind you. he stroked his cock a few times to the sight of your slick pussy.

"please, max." your blood was rushing which was only making your hangover more prominent.

"i have you, my love." he said as he slowly sank his cock into your pussy. he soon took hold of your hips and nudged his cock up against the back of your cunt. right up against your cervix.

"shit." you groan.

the angle of his cock inside of you felt amazing. you clawed at the covers and arched your back. you panted into the pillows.

"you like that, don't you? you love that, my love?" he groaned, his tongue was loose in his mouth, "Ik denk de hele tijd aan je op de baan. Ik had een droom toen je rok omhoog vloog toen ik voorbijreed." he chuckled.

you whined, "c'mon max."

he took you by the hair and yanked your head a little back as he closed the gap between you two, "i said. i had a dream that i drove by during the race and your skirt flew up. and they all got a good look at those sweet panties you wore." he chuckled a little more as he kissed your face. he could feel the heat in your cheeks.

his thrusts were fast and aggressive, the pleasure bloomed in his chest as he moved. he watched you grip at the covers with your back arched.

"shit."

"fuck."

"i know, my love." he said between pants.

your brain felt like mush from back to back pleasure. you panted wildly into the pillows. your back arched further as max pressed further into you. he bent you into angles that were uncomfortable butt he pleasure that raced through you cancelled out the feeling.

"please, max."

"ik heb je." he said with a reassuring voice the more he fucked you. your ass jiggled from the force of his thrusts. he felt the sweat drip down his neck and down his bare back as he fucked into your.

"i love you." you murmured into the covers.

"i love you too." he said with such softness in his voice as if he wasn't balls deep inside of you. he loved you so much, he loved how you felt against him. you felt like a dream.

"please, max." you moaned as you tried to cover your mouth with your hand so you wouldn't disturb the neighbours next door.

"i want to hear you, my love." he said softly, his voice still in your ear, "i want to hear it all."

"but next door." you said.

"doesn't matter. i won the race. i can fuck my girl whoever i want." he purred as his pace became erratic, your eyes felt like they were going to roll back into your head as you moaned into the pillows. he said, "I want them all to hear you."

oh max, ever the romantic.

you whimpered into the pillows as you felt the pleasure come to a head of the second orgasm of the morning. you didn't have an awful lot of time left before he had to get ready. but by the stagger of his thrusts, you knew he was close as well.

"that's my girl." he said.

"please, max."

"mijn liefje." he said with a bit of tension in his voice as the warmth of sex clogged his head.

the angle made it feel like he was in your stomach which caused you to choke out moans.

the bed hit against the wall as he moved against you. with a few more hard thrusts, you both came at the same time. his groan was low and heavy while your moan was high pitched and had to be covered up by the pillow.

he loved when he finished inside of you, it made his heartbeat quicken. that he marked you inside and out. he slowed down and rested back on his heels as he cock slipped out of your used hole.

he pushed hair out of his face and panted heavily. you felt like heaven. you soon laid next to one another, he pulled you into his sweaty arms.

"mijn liefste, ik hou zoveel van je. jij geeft mij het gevoel dat ik een winnaar ben." he kissed the top of your head as you laid there together.

you got comfortable in his arms and smiled against him. the rush of climax was still in your head as you clung to him.

you said to him, in the bit of dutch you knew, "Ik hou ook van jou, max."

he chuckled and kissed you once more. <3