#jet stream max

[propertyofwicked]

SECRETS - LN

lando x fewtrell!reader (cos who doesn't love a bit of brother's best friend?).

no content warnings for this part. pls lemme know what u think of this pls and thank u.

previous part -> next part

masterlist the playlist

y/n was a bit of an enigma in the fewtrell family. yes, she’d grown up karting with her older brother and his best friend, but it wasn’t a career for her. not like it was for max, who took his love of karting to championships and content creation and especially not like lando, who made it all the way to F1.

no, y/n fewtrell wanted a career, for now at least anyway. which leads us to now, she’s sat in a second year lecture, not listening to a single word as a slew of messages from her brother almost vibrate her phone off the desk.

she didn’t really need to think about it at all, of course she’d be there. whilst she had no interest in her actually involvement, she loved motor sports, and loved supporting lando. the amount of times she’d been recognised in her uni towns sports bar, watching the F1, was getting concerning. not to mention the time she’d finished a 10 hour shift and somehow fell asleep in said sports bar, made worse and more recognisable to lando fans by the quadrant hoodie and LN4 beanie - max had not let her live it down since the moment the photo came on his twitter feed. it just seemed odd that lando all of a sudden wanted, no, needed her presence - after all, he'd had minimal contact with her for almost a year.

but, she weighed up in her head, getting to see lando was somewhat of a reward. yes spending the day with her brother would be good, although she could sense her summer would potentially be spent with him anyway. but lando, what could she say about lando. he was always around growing up, and yes admittedly there had been a few moments shared in her early adulthood that would indicate something more but it always remained unspoken. lingering touches here and there, the night they spent dancing together in a club, though written off as drunk friendliness, and most notably an interrupted moment where he whispered “max would kill me if he knew the truth”. y/n never got to find out what the truth was, as max himself came barrelling into the room, equally as drunk as everyone else at the gathering. from that night on, she barely saw or heard from lando, well, until now supposedly.

ultimately, y/n decided that dwelling on what could’ve been, whilst lando jets off around the world, was simply not worth it. she focused on her studies, and began declining offers to watch lando race on the other side of the world. y/n fewtrell was a strong independent woman who did not need the validation from her brothers best friend.

didn’t mean she didn’t enjoy it.

as predicted, the academic year ended and y/n found herself moving a bag of clothes into max’s spare room. people started spotting her in the background of streams again, fans excited to see the fewtrell’s back together and in full force - y/n now adorning a lovely bruise down the side of her arm from where max had shoved her too hard off a chair and onto the floor. sore losers run in the family.

“MAX! that hurt,” y/n whined from her new found position on the floor.

“oh did it,” max asks mockingly, “sucks to be you i guess” he adds with a shrug, although letting her use his arm to pull herself back up.

he moved back to playing his game when a text popped up on her phone making her giggle.

“what? what are you laughing at?”

“lando said “push him back”. lando,” y/n said, looking at the camera, “if i could, i would - but i quite like having somewhere to live and my own personal chauffeur,” she laughed, max laughing with her.

a month later she was in the passenger seat of max’s car, him pulling in to park outside the silverstone track. it was hours before the public would show up, so she instantly spotted the curly haired man. yes, the bright orange jumper was like a bat signal for lando, but y/n’s eyes were immediately drawn to him naturally. max had just about pulled the handbrake on when lando bounded over to the car, pulled the passenger door open and lunged himself around y/n.

“you came! it’s been too long since ive had my little lucky charm in my garage,” he says, looking directly into her eyes. a red flush runs up her cheeks, hoping that the boys will put it down to the loss of air conditioning. any awkwardness she had anticipated between the two dissolved almost instantly.

“i know, i’m sorry. i should just drop out of uni and follow you around the world, i know. forgive me,” she jokes holding her hands up, and lando quirks an eyebrow up, as if saying “you should”.

“don’t do that, y/n. one of the fewtrell’s needs to be properly educated,” max jokes, ”besides, not having his lucky charm around all the time keeps his ego in check.” lando chuckles in response, finally moving to stand fully out of the car and allowing y/n and max to climb out and join him.

“so, home race in 2 days - how you feelin’ mate?” max asked lando, raising his hand to do one of those bro hand grabs. they continued talking, y/n trailing just behind them as they walked into the building and around to the mclaren area. it was always a spectacle, coming to races. the teams, the drivers, the media, the celebrations - it was somewhat overwhelming. it was weird to see the place so empty, then again, it was 7am on FP1 day so the only people walking around were the odd driver and mechanics.

they continued to walk through the paddock, y/n just listening to the boys discussing an upcoming quadrant project, eventually reaching his drivers room. the sofa looked so inviting, especially to the girl who was dragged kicking and screaming out of bed at 5am. whilst lando distracted max, showing him his helmet for the home race, y/n crawled over to the sofa, curled up in a corner and shut her eyes.

“y/n? you good?” lando asked, after clocking her new found position.

“shut up.”

“ouch.”

“she threatened to rip my eyeballs out and shove them down my throat this morning when i tried to get her up. being told to shut up is nothing,” max laughed, ruffling the top of his sisters head and messing up her hair, “she just likes her sleep.”

“yes, she does, please let her have it,” y/n mumbles bluntly, met with chuckles from the boys.

“we’re gonna get breakfast. ill bring you back something if you want to stay here?” lando asks, her eyes perking up at the thought of food.

“yes please,” she says, with a soft smile directed towards him.

-

“next time, me and you are getting separate hotel rooms,” y/n groaned, rolling around the sofa of her hotel room trying to get comfortable.

“next time, tell me you want to come with me early enough for me to book you a separate hotel room, y/n,” her brother grumbled back.

“i’m gonna see if there’s a gym here. i need to tire myself out if i’m going to sleep on this…thing,” she said, poking at the solid leather of the sofa.

max didn’t respond to his sister, instead he rolled over to face the door and shut his eyes. y/n grabbed her key card and her shoes, and walked out the door, happy to be away from her brother. she loved him, she really did, but after spending the entire day in lando’s small driver room with him - she really just needed some brother-free air.

she barely reached the lift at the end of the hallway when she got a text, diverting her entire plans for that evening.

i’m bored. come on a drive with me?

going on a late night drive with lando was not out of the ordinary, but usually max was there. had he sent max the same message? either way, she responded with a quick yes and thumbs up.

cool. im outside btw. hurry up.

have you just turned up assuming i was going to say yes?

was i wrong?

shut up im coming down now

[julietsf1]

Hurricane - Franco Colapinto x Reader

summary: When a hurricane leaves Y/N stranded at Charles’s Monaco apartment with a few of his friends, Y/N has to navigate both the storm outside and the one brewing inside. (5k words)

AN: The absolute confusion I had when I saw a hurricane warning from my government yesterday (I live in south of France); they later changed it to a regular storm warning, as it was a mistake but it did inspire me to write a lil something :) Hope you all have a lovely day cuties <3

__________________________________________

The late afternoon sunlight streamed through the wide-open balcony doors, casting a golden hue over Charles’s perfectly pristine Monaco apartment. I sat cross-legged on the plush rug, sipping wine and admiring the explosion of shopping bags Alexandra and I had managed to accumulate during our day out. Monte Carlo had definitely been kind to us, and the light buzz from the wine wasn’t hurting either.

“I swear, you have this insane ability to sniff out the best deals,” I said, holding up a silk scarf I knew I’d never wear but had bought anyway. “How do you do it?”

Alexandra, always composed, gave me a sly smile from where she lounged on the couch, a glass of wine cradled effortlessly in her hand. “It’s all about instinct. Plus, I had to keep up with you. You were like a woman possessed.”

“Possessed by a very stylish demon,” I quipped, draping the scarf over my shoulder dramatically before laughing. The kind of laughter that happens when you’re a bit tipsy and surrounded by a friend who knows all your quirks.

“I still can’t believe we’ve kept this monthly tradition alive,” Alexandra mused, swirling her wine. “Feels like just yesterday we were running around Paris pretending to understand every art piece in the Louvre.”

I smirked, raising my glass. “Fake it till you make it, right? Look at us now — two very sophisticated, responsible young women.”

Alexandra burst into laughter at that, nearly spilling her drink. “Yes, responsible. Totally why we blew our budgets in today.”

“Hey, this is what reunions are for. Besides, Charles is always dragging you to fancy dinners — we need to keep up appearances.”

“Cheers to that,” Alexandra laughed. These reunions had become a tradition ever since they both left Paris. Shopping, gossiping, and generally pretending they had their lives together for a few days before returning to reality.

“I do wish I could stay longer,” Y/N said, glancing at her watch. “But I’ve got a flight back to tonight.”

Alexandra pouted in a way that could have convinced anyone to cancel their plans. “Come on, just stay for dinner.”

“As tempting as that sounds, I really can’t,” Y/N replied, laughing. “I don’t have a private jet. Air France is not going to wait for me.”

As if on cue, the front door swung open, and there was Charles, as effortlessly polished as ever, with a smile that seemed to say, I’m trying not to stress but also, I’m probably going to stress.

“Bonsoir, ladies,” he greeted, dropping his keys on the counter. “Good day of shopping, I assume?”

“The best,” I grinned, waving a hand over the spread of bags surrounding us. “Your appartment is stunning by the way.”

He smiled, giving a mock bow. “I do what I can You should stay for a bit, a few people are coming over tonight — nothing too crazy. Just some of the guys.”

Y/N’s eyebrows raised in surprise. “The guys?”

“Yeah, nothing too big. Just Lando, George, Max, and Franco. A little pre-birthday thing before we head out later.”

I exchanged a quick glance with Alexandra, who was already giving me her classic stay for dinner look. Before I could protest, the apartment door swung open again, and in walked George, looking as composed and proper as ever. His eyes scanned the apartment critically before zeroing in on Charles.

“I still think hiring a private chef is a bit over the top,” George began, without so much as a greeting. “We could’ve managed something ourselves, you know. Is this private chef going to stick to traditional recipes? I’m just saying, none of that modern fusion nonsense. I don’t want to find some deconstructed tartare on my plate. It should be classic and-”

“Hi, George,” I cut in, giving him a pointed look.

He blinked, suddenly remembering that Alexandra and I were present. “Oh, Y/N, Alexandra. Didn’t see you there. Apologies, m’ladies.” He gave a polite nod before turning back to Charles. “Anyway, as I was saying—”

“George, we’ve got it covered,” Charles sighed, looking like he was already regretting inviting his overly particular friend.

Before George could launch into another monologue about culinary disasters, the door swung open again, and Lando breezed in with his signature chaotic energy. He didn’t just walk into a room, he practically exploded into it.

“Ladies, gentlemen, I have arrived!” Lando declared, grinning widely as if he’d just been announced at a royal ball. He scanned the room, his eyes landing on me and Alexandra. “Ah, the usual suspects. So, what’s the plan? Dinner, drinks, maybe a little dancing after?”

“That’s the idea,” Alexandra said, raising an eyebrow. “But Y/N is trying to bail for her flight.”

Lando gasped, clutching his chest in exaggerated shock. “What? Absolutely not. We’re not letting you leave before you at least see how this chef performs under George’s expert critique.”

I rolled my eyes, smiling. “You’re all ridiculous. I really do need to catch that flight.”

“You’ll miss the best part of the night!” Lando said, leaning back with a knowing grin. “But fine, if you have to go, you have to go.”

As if on cue, the door opened again, and in walked Max — no dramatic entrance, no greetings. He headed straight for the bar, poured himself a gin and tonic, and turned to the group with a small nod, holding up his glass.

“Evening,” he said, like this was all completely normal.

“Hi, Max,” I replied, grinning at his predictable, casual demeanor.

“Y/N. Alexandra,” Max greeted, raising his glass in acknowledgment before taking a long sip, completely unfazed by Lando’s lingering excitement or George’s quiet simmer of judgment.

It didn’t take long for everyone to fall into their usual rhythms. Charles, now somewhat resigned to the chaos, was behind the counter mixing drinks. George, still hovering like a concerned parent, muttered under his breath about the chef’s qualifications. Meanwhile, Lando was already plotting mischief, and Max was sipping his gin as if nothing in the world could faze him.

I found myself laughing at how these gatherings always followed the same unpredictable-yet-predictable pattern. It was hectic, but in the best way. As much as I hated to admit it, I would probably miss it if I left for Paris tonight. But I already had my ticket, urging me to start packing.

As I sat there, mentally preparing to say my goodbyes, the door opened again. In walked someone I didn’t recognize. He moved with a relaxed, almost casual confidence, and instantly, the energy in the room seemed to shift. He didn’t need to announce himself or make a grand entrance like Lando had — his presence was subtle but noticeable.

His hair was slightly tousled, the kind that looked soft and effortlessly styled in that perfectly imperfect way. The moment he smiled, a warm, very cute grin, I felt a brief flicker of something, my heart beating a little faster in my chest. There was something disarming about him. He had the kind of smile that made you feel like you’d known him forever, even though I’d never seen him before.

He stepped closer, his green eyes flicking to me. “You must be Y/N,” he said, his voice smooth and pleasant as he extended a hand.

I blinked, momentarily caught off guard by the easy charm he exuded. It wasn’t forced or showy, just... natural. Recovering quickly, I shook his hand. “That’s me. Nice to meet you.”

“Franco,” He held onto my gaze for a moment, the playful glint in his eyes unmistakable. “Nice to finally meet you. I’ve heard a lot.”

“All good things, I hope,” I replied, trying not to be too obvious as I shot a quick glance at Alexandra, who was absolutely soaking up this moment.

“Always,” he said with a playful glint in his eyes before releasing my hand.

Alexandra didn’t waste a second before giving me that knowing look, the one that practically screamed I told you you should stay. I elbowed her lightly, trying to suppress my smile and the butterflies that were fluttering in my stomach. 

Before I could continue the conversation or ask Franco who exactly had been talking about me, Charles’s phone buzzed loudly from across the room. As he glanced down, and the expression on his face shifted so fast it was almost comical — the laid-back vibe of the evening vanished instantly.

“Oh no.”

“What is it?” I asked, feeling a knot tighten in my stomach.

Charles stared at his phone, his brow furrowed. “It’s a hurricane alert.”

“A hurricane?” Lando immediately perked up, jumping off the couch as if the word itself had given him a burst of energy. “In Monte Carlo?”

Charles nodded, his expression darkening. “Yeah. Whole south of France. All flights are grounded, transportation is suspended and residents must stay inside.”

My stomach sank. “My flight…”

Alexandra, not missing a beat and clearly enjoying the chaos unfolding, sipped her wine and smirked. “Looks like you’re not going anywhere.”

Lando, ever the opportunist, grabbed Charles’s phone from him and squinted at the screen. “Ouragan? That’s the French word for hurricane? That’s got to be a joke.” He wrinkled his nose, making it sound even more absurd than it already did.

Max, sitting comfortably and sipping his gin, raised an eyebrow laughing. “That’s why I live in the Italian speaking part.”

“Lando, right now is not the moment to be critical of the French.” George said, looking concerned. 

Charles let out a frustrated sigh, running his hand through his hair, now visibly stressed. “Everything’s closed down. We’re stuck here for the night.”

Franco, now fully settled into a chair beside me, shrugged casually. “There are worse places to be stuck,” he said, his voice light, as if we weren’t all just stranded.

I glanced over at him, and he smiled again, that same easy warmth that seemed to make everything feel a little less chaotic. The thought of being stuck suddenly didn’t seem so bad.

Lando, on the other hand, looked positively thrilled. “Guess we’re having a proper night in!” He clapped his hands together, already mentally planning the night ahead.

Meanwhile, George, who had been standing to the side, immediately shifted into problem-solving mode. “We need to secure the windows, check supplies, make sure we have—”

“George, mate,” Max cut in, raising his glass without looking up, “it’s a little hurricane, not the end of the world. We’re fine.”

I couldn’t help but laugh, the ridiculousness of the situation beginning to sink in. As subtly as I could, I turned to sneak another glance at the guy next to me. His presence, along with that gentle, easy smile, had a way of making everything else feel a little less chaotic. For a brief moment, the reality of being stuck in here didn’t seem so bad. 

..

It didn’t take long for the mood in the apartment to shift, Lando, of course, was the first to act, bouncing off the couch and making a beeline for the Bluetooth speaker.

“If we’re stuck here, we might as well make it fun!” he declared, pulling out his phone and connecting it to the speaker. Within seconds, upbeat music filled the room as Lando scrolled through his playlist, queuing up tracks to keep the vibe alive. “Max, you in?”

Max, who had been lazily sipping his gin and tonic, grinned and gave a small nod. “Always.”

With the music pumping, it was clear that Lando and Max were determined to turn the situation into a party, despite the looming hurricane. I glanced at Alexandra, who simply shook her head, amused.

Meanwhile, Charles was pacing near the kitchen, still on the phone with the now-stranded private chef. His frustration was evident in the deep sighs he kept letting out. “Yes, I get it. But seriously? Not even a chance? Yeah, okay. Fine. Thanks,” he muttered, hanging up with an exasperated expression. “The chef can’t make it. We’re on our own.”

“That’s our cue,” Alexandra said, standing up and rolling her sleeves. “Y/N, you ready to help me chef it up?”

“Lead the way,” I replied, following her into the kitchen. The ingredients we had weren’t extensive, but Alexandra was already surveying the options with a critical eye, assessing what we could make work. “How about a classic tarte tatin to start and coq au vin for the main course?” she suggested, her eyes gleaming with the challenge.

I raised an eyebrow. “You’re feeling ambitious.”

She smirked. “We’re in Monte Carlo, aren’t we? Let’s do this properly.”

We quickly got to work, but as we gathered ingredients, I could feel someone hovering. Sure enough, George had appeared at the edge of the kitchen, arms crossed, watching us with that critical, calculating look. He looked ready to swoop in at any moment.

“I just want to make sure everything’s going according to plan,” George said, his tone a little too intense for a casual night stuck in a storm. “Are you sure you want to sauté those vegetables at that heat? I mean, it’s important we get the timing just right…”

Alexandra and I exchanged a quick glance, both of us trying not to laugh but also feeling the mounting pressure of George’s constant observations. It wasn’t that he was wrong, but his looming presence was starting to make things awkward.

Before either of us could respond, Franco, who had been leaning against the counter, stepped in with perfect timing. “You know, George, you’re really the only one here who knows how to handle a hurricane situation properly. I mean, I wouldn’t know the first thing about securing an apartment for a storm like this,” Franco said, his voice sincere but with a hint of playful exaggeration.

George, caught off guard, turned to Franco with a raised brow. “Well, thank you for noticing! Finally someone who takes my expertise to heart.”

Franco nodded, widening his eyes slightly as if he were genuinely impressed. “Yes! You’ve got to come up with gameplan, George.”

George’s posture shifted, the critical kitchen gaze giving way to the more pressing issue of hurricane preparedness. “Well, I suppose someone should check the windows… and the doors. And make sure we have everything we need in case it gets worse.”

Franco smiled, giving him a reassuring nod. “Exactly, and you’re the best person for that. Don’t worry about us in here. I’ll make sure everything’s under control while you handle the important stuff.”

George stood a little taller, clearly feeling validated. “Right. I’ll get to it, then.” With that, he turned on his heel and started making his way toward the windows, leaving the kitchen — and us — in peace.

I let out a quiet breath of relief as Franco turned back toward us with a mischievous grin. 

Alexandra chuckled, tossing him a knife. “Not bad. We owe you for that one.”

Franco caught the knife easily, giving a mock bow. “Happy to be of service. Need any help? Shall I chop something? Stir?”

I exchanged a glance with Franco, who had already rolled up his sleeves and was looking at the ingredients with a playful grin. “You any good at this?” I asked, 

“I’ve got some skills,” he said, flashing that same warm smile from earlier. “Just tell me what you need, and I’ll take care of it.”

I blushed a little, which Franco seemed to notice. He let out a soft chuckle, brushing his hand over my lower back as he walked to the other side of the kitchen to grab a cutting board. 

As we got deeper into the cooking, Franco’s talkative side started to show. He moved smoothly through the kitchen, cutting vegetables, making jokes, and occasionally breaking into exaggerated commentary about our process.

“You know, this tarte tatin is already looking better than any I’ve ever seen. Michelin-star level for sure,” he said with a grin, watching as I arranged the caramelized apples in the pan.

“Oh, absolutely,” Alexandra chimed in with a teasing tone. “I’m sure we’ll have food critics knocking down the door any minute now.”

Franco raised his hands in surrender, still smiling. “Hey, I’m just saying, if this racing thing doesn’t work out, I now got a backup plan.”

The smell of the coq au vin simmering away filled the apartment, a comforting aroma that seemed to blend perfectly with the upbeat music still playing from Lando’s speaker. Max, now fully entertained by Lando’s ridiculous dance moves, was swaying along with him, both of them taking occasional breaks to sip their drinks and laugh at each other.

I glanced back at Franco as he finished chopping, handing the neatly diced vegetables to Alex. “You’re a natural,” I said, impressed by how quickly he picked up the rhythm of the kitchen.

“Guess you bring out the best in me,” he replied with a wink, and I felt a warmth rise to my cheeks despite myself.

I couldn’t help but smile at that, the stress of the hurricane melting away little by little as we worked. Franco was good at keeping things light, his constant chatter and easygoing attitude making the cooking feel more like fun than an obligation.

After placing the tarte tatin in the oven, I wiped my hands and glanced out toward the rest of the apartment. George was now in full storm-prep mode, diligently checking windows, making sure everything was locked tight, and muttering under his breath about emergency plans. Charles, though still somewhat stressed, had at least stopped pacing and was leaning against the counter, sipping a drink as he watched Lando and Max’s antics.

“Not bad for a last-minute Plan B, huh?” Franco said, standing beside me as he washed his hands at the sink.

“Not bad at all,” I replied, feeling a warm sense of accomplishment as the scents filled the apartment. 

..

Dinner was a success, much to the delight of everyone in the apartment. The tarte tatin had been perfect, golden and crisp, and the coq au vin rich and flavorful, enough to win over even George, who begrudgingly admitted that “for a last-minute dinner, it wasn’t bad at all.” 

The energy in the apartment was buzzing, and the storm outside seemed like a distant hum. With Lando’s playlist still thumping in the background, we settled in the living room, everyone lounging comfortably after the meal. But George, predictably, couldn’t handle the idea of sitting idle for too long.

“Right,” George announced, standing up and clapping his hands together. “Now that we’ve eaten, how about some games? We could do something like charades or—”

Max, already sprawled out with his drink in hand, rolled his eyes. “Boring,” he drawled. “Let’s play something fun, like a drinking game.”

Lando’s face lit up immediately. “Now that’s more like it!”

George looked appalled. “A drinking game? We just had dinner!”

“That’s exactly why,” Max said, raising his glass. “Got to flush it down for dessert.”

Lando, grinning ear to ear, was already hopping off the couch. “Alright, but it has to be something chaotic. Max, what’s that one game we talked about? The one from New Girl?”

“True American,” Max replied, slouching further into his chair with a smirk. “That’s the one.”

George frowned. “What in the world is True American?”

I laughed, shaking my head. “It’s a drinking game, but with no clear rules, lots of chaos, and a touch of American history thrown in for fun.”

“And the floor is lava,” Lando added, already rearranging the room, pushing chairs and cushions into strategic positions.

“The floor is… lava?” George echoed, still looking deeply confused.

“Yep! So you have to move from piece of furniture to piece of furniture without touching the ground,” I explained, grinning as I grabbed some throw pillows to use as extra stepping stones.

Franco chuckled beside me, shaking his head. “Sounds like absolute madness.”

“Exactly,” I said, laughing. “You’ll love it.”

Max, now fully invested, sat up slightly. “Also, there are random trivia questions, mostly American history. And whenever someone shouts, ‘JFK!’ you have to drink.”

George raised an eyebrow, clearly skeptical. “None of us are American. Can’t we do a British variant instead?”

“That wouldn’t be fair, mate,” Lando chuckled, stretching out his arms as if preparing for the chaos that was about to unfold. “You’re practically the lovechild of David Attenborough and the Encyclopaedia Britannica.”

“Yeah, at least let’s pick something where we all have an equal chance of winning,” Alexandra added, already on her feet and moving chairs around with an excited bounce. “Let’s call it True F1.”

Charles, who had been quietly observing the conversation from the couch, finally chimed in with a grin. “I’d actually love to see how you guys twist F1 trivia into a drinking game.”

Lando, never one to waste a good opportunity, was already hopping between the coffee table and the armrest of the nearest chair. “Alright! Here’s how it works: the floor is still lava, obviously. But instead of random American history facts, you shout out random F1 facts — the weirder, the better. If someone calls out a track name, you have to switch ‘circuits’, aka furniture, without touching the floor. Got it?”

Max smirked, finishing off his drink. “Sounds ridiculous. I’m in.”

Within minutes, the living room had been transformed into a messy obstacle course of chairs, pillows, and random objects. Lando, the unofficial captain of chaos, had already hopped onto the coffee table, gesturing for everyone to join him.

The game quickly descended into the same kind of chaos that Lando had promised. Max and Charles were the first to yell out random facts.

“Did you know Toto’s real first name is Totoro?” Max announced confidently, clearly just making things up for the fun of it, earning a glare from George.

“Very funny, mate,” Lando called back, leaping onto a chair. “But did you know Michael Schumacher once raced a kangaroo in Australia?”

Charles, balancing on the armrest of the couch, raised an eyebrow, amused but skeptical. “I’m pretty sure that didn’t happen.”

George, meanwhile, looked completely bewildered. “Wait, what? Is any of this true?”

“Doesn’t matter!” Lando shot back, moving to a footstool.

I found myself laughing uncontrollably, trying to maintain my balance as I stood on the armrest of a chair. Franco, standing nearby on the coffee table, reached out a hand to help me jump to the next ‘circuit’ — in this case, a cushion on the floor.

“Careful,” he teased, his hand steadying me. “You don’t want to fall into ‘Turn 13 at Monaco.’ It’s a tricky one.”

“Monaco? I thought we were in Silverstone,” I replied with a grin as I took his hand.

Franco chuckled, his green eyes sparkling with amusement. “It’s a complicated circuit.”

As I jumped, I almost lost my balance, wobbling slightly. Franco, quick to react, caught me, his arm wrapping around my waist to steady me. His touch was warm, and as our eyes met, the playful atmosphere between us shifted, feeling suddenlya bit more charged.

“You good?” he asked softly, his smile still warm but with a little more weight behind it.

“Yeah,” I breathed, trying to ignore the blush creeping up on my cheeks. “Thanks.”

I honestly didn’t mind standing like this. For a second, it felt like the rest of the game had faded into the background, the noise dimming around us. But then, just as quickly, Charles shouted from across the room, “Spa-Francorchamps!”

The spell broke. Franco let go, and I hopped onto the next chair, trying to suppress the grin that was forming on my face.

The game continued with more nonsensical facts. Max tried to convince George that Fernando Alonso once moonlit as a matador, while Lando made up a story about Kimi Räikkönen secretly being Oscar Piastri’s dad.

Meanwhile, Alexandra, acrobatically clinging a nearby bookshelf, caught my eye, a mischievous smile tugging at her lips. “T’as capté? Il te lâche pas du tout.” (Did you catch that? He can’t stop looking at you.)

I laughed, shaking my head. “Arrête…” (Stop…)

She raised an eyebrow, leaning in closer. “T’inquiète, ma puce, j’dirai rien... mais c’est cramé!” (Don’t worry, sweetie, I won’t say anything… but it’s so obvious!)

We giggled, and across the room, Charles, who had clearly understood the exchange, raised an eyebrow, amused. He didn’t say anything, but his knowing look said enough.

Lando, noticing the laughter but missing the French, put his hands on his hips dramatically. “Oi! What’s going on over there? You two plotting in French again? That’s not fair!”

Alexandra and I burst into laughter, but before I could explain, Lando waved a hand dramatically. “Fine! You know what? Max! We’ll speak Dutch and leave them out.”

Max raised his glass, thoroughly entertained. “Go ahead, mate.”

Lando nodded, puffing up with mock determination. “Absolutely. Let’s go!”

Max leaned back in his chair, grinning. “Alright, your turn.”

Lando furrowed his brow in concentration and attempted his best Dutch. “Uhh… Ik… spreek beetje Nederland… ja?”

Max nearly choked on his gin. “That’s… good effort.”

Undeterred, Lando kept at it, much to Max’s amusement. “Lekker... uh… ja?”

Max waved him off, laughing. “Stop. You’re embarrassing the language.”

The game continued late into the evening, with everyone’s laughter filling the room. Despite the storm outside, the chaos, and the completely nonsensical F1 trivia, it felt like we’d turned the night into something unexpectedly fun.

..

The night had wound down after hours of conversation, laughter, and chaotic games. The storm outside was still relentless, but inside the apartment, everything felt warm and comfortable. Conversations had softened, and people were beginning to yawn, signaling the end of the night.

Alexandra and Charles were the first to head off, exchanging quiet goodnights before disappearing into their room. The rest of us remained scattered around the living room, tired but still riding the wave of the evening’s energy.

Max, who had been slowly sinking into the armchair with his sixth gin and tonic, stood up, stretched, and made a beeline for the guest room without a word. It was clear he was done for the night. Lando was half-asleep on the larger couch, sprawled out in his usual dramatic fashion, leaving little room for George, who had claimed the other side.

Franco, who had been lounging on the small two-seater sofa, stretched his arms and looked over at me. “Looks like this is my spot for the night,” he said with a grin, patting the cushion beside him. “Not much room, except between Lando and George. You might as well join me.”

I hesitated for a second, but the way he said it — so casual and light, yet with that playful spark in his eyes — made it clear that the offer wasn’t just about space. The tension between us was undeniable.

I smirked, feigning reluctance. “Alright, but if you take up all the room, I’m kicking you off.”

Franco chuckled softly, shifting over to make space for me. “Deal.”

I sat down next to him, the proximity between us much closer than I had anticipated. The couch was small, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. In fact, being close to Franco felt easy, natural. His arm rested across the back of the sofa, and as we settled in, his fingers lightly brushed my shoulder.

We sat there for a moment in silence, the only sounds coming from the soft rumble of the storm outside and the occasional rustling from Lando’s half-asleep movements on the other couch. The apartment had gone from a chaotic whirlwind of noise and laughter to a quiet, almost serene atmosphere.

Franco shifted slightly, his fingers moving gently to stroke my hair. The movement was soft and rhythmic, calming, and I felt my heart skip a beat. I leaned into him, resting my head against his chest. His touch was tender, each stroke of his hand sending a warm shiver through me as I relaxed into the closeness between us.

We didn’t need to say anything. The silence between us spoke volumes, and as the storm continued to rage outside, I felt a warmth spread through me that had nothing to do with the blankets or the fire. Franco’s presence next to me, his fingers softly tracing through my hair, was all the comfort I needed.

As we lay there, my eyes growing heavy, Franco leaned down just slightly, his breath warm against my hair. “Sleep well,” he whispered.

I smiled, closing my eyes. “You too.”

And with that, the storm outside became nothing more than a distant hum as I drifted off, cocooned in the warmth of Franco’s embrace, his hand still softly stroking my hair.

..

The morning light streamed through the curtains, casting a warm glow over the apartment. The storm had passed, leaving only the gentle patter of rain ticking against the window. stirred slightly, realizing that Franco’s arm was still wrapped around me, and my head rested comfortably against his chest. It might sound a bit odd but waking up like this — still wrapped up in his embrace — felt surprisingly natural.

Franco shifted beneath me, his arm tightening briefly before he blinked awake, his eyes meeting mine with a soft, sleepy smile.

“Morning,” he murmured, his voice still low and heavy with sleep.

“Morning,” I replied, matching his smile.

Neither of us moved for a few moments, letting the quiet of the morning linger between us. I could hear faint sounds coming from the kitchen, the telltale signs of someone already up and making breakfast. I lifted my head slightly, glancing over toward the kitchen, and saw Lando and George huddled near the stove, clearly trying not to be obvious as they watched us.

Lando, with his ever-present grin, didn’t miss a beat. “Well, well, well. Look who’s finally awake.”

George, more restrained but no less amused, added, “Breakfast is almost ready... in case you’re interested.”

I sat up, reluctantly pulling myself away from Franco’s embrace, feeling the heat rise in my cheeks under their teasing gazes. Franco, however, seemed completely unbothered, sitting up with a lazy stretch and flashing them a grin. “You guys couldn’t give us a few more minutes?”

Lando flipped a pancake with dramatic flair. “Mate, I’ve been up for hours. Go do that lovey dovey stuff some other time.”

Before I could respond, more footsteps approached from the hallway, and soon enough, Max and Charles appeared, both looking groggy but curious. Charles raised an eyebrow when he saw Franco and me, but he said nothing, just exchanged a knowing glance with Alexandra, who had wandered into the room with a smile.

She looked between Franco and me, her eyes twinkling with amusement. Leaning in, she whispered, “Je vois que tu as passé une très bonne nuit… “(I see you had a very good night...)

I couldn’t help but laugh softly, shaking my head at her teasing. Franco glanced between us, clearly picking up on the tone but not the words. “What did she say this time?”

“Just more girl talk,” I replied with a grin, standing up.

The kitchen smelled of pancakes, coffee, and eggs as everyone gathered around the table for breakfast. The atmosphere was relaxed. Even Max, still hungover, managed a grin as the lighthearted banter continued.

After breakfast, as everyone began packing up and getting ready to leave, Franco pulled me aside. His voice was quieter now, more thoughtful. “So... I was thinking.”

I turned to him, curious. “About what?”

He hesitated for just a second, but then smiled. “I live in Madrid, and I was wondering if you’d like to come with me for a few extra days. It’d be nice to spend some more time together... before you head back to Paris.”

Hearing it made my heart flutter. Madrid. A few extra days with Franco. I couldn’t help but smile at the thought.

“I’ve had a lot of fun and I’m not ready to say goodbye yet. If you let me, of course.”

“I’d love that,” I replied softly.

Franco’s grin widened, the excitement clear on his face. “Perfect.”

Before I could say anything else, Lando’s voice cut through the room. “Oi! What’s this about Madrid? You two planning a romantic getaway?”

Franco didn’t miss a beat. He leaned down, planting a soft kiss on the top of my head, and then turned to Lando with a mischievous grin. “Jealous?”

Lando clutched his chest dramatically. “A little bit, yeah! Where’s my invite?”

Everyone laughed, even Max managed a small chuckle behind his coffee cup. The teasing flowed easily as we packed up, and the mood in the apartment was as bright as the morning outside. Whatever had started between Franco and me felt natural, fun, and as I grabbed my things, I couldn’t help but feel a little giddy about what was next. I wasn’t nervous, just excited —a new adventure waiting to unfold.

[caesium-55]

—seven days. [ vi.iii ]

pairing: max verstappen x manager! reader.

summary: as the third time world champion, max verstappen's manager, you function on the belief that whatever max verstappen wanted, max verstappen shall get. but this time, after four years of working as his manager, you can't give him what he wants anymore and that was to stay.

author's note: updating bc i love yall. lol jk i dont want to study for my engineering management long quiz yet. sum1 yell at me to start studying or smth.

tags: @whatamidoingwithmylife-ramdom @eugene-emt-roe @bellezaycafe @barnestatic @theseerbetweenus @wcnorris @notyouraveragemochii @lpab @vildetry06 @a-beaverhausen @formula1mount @loloekie @alucardsdaddyissues @juky-ps @cassianswh0reeee @devotedlycrookeddonut @amberpanda99 @supermaxv1 @evie-119 @spideylovin @harianaswhore @formulaal

masterlist.

The Abu Dhabi Grand Prix 2021 is a little dramatic in Max’s opinion. Some would say controversial. A lot of restarts. The issue with the safety car. Hamilton and Verstappen goes neck to neck. 369.5 points to 369.5. In the end, Verstappen overtakes Hamilton and wins the 2021 World Drivers' Championship.

The team celebrates with him after winning and in the sea of Red Bull employees, Max searches for you.

He won! Max Verstappen won! He’s a WDC now! He finally made truth of the world he told you in 2019.

Kelly appears and kisses him square on the lips. Max sees you in his peripheral vision, pulling your ball cap lower on your face before turning around and leaving. He wants to call you but Kelly keeps him in place.

Max visits your hotel room later, all happy and he holds the canned bottle of beer to you when you open the door.

“I’m not the sour loser anymore.”

You smile at him and Max feels like he’s on top of the podium again.

“Told ya you’ll be champion one day. Congrats, champ. Very happy for you.”

Champ.

Max decides that he likes Champ over every name you call him.

2022

you: go to fucking sleep u degenerate gamer

you: its 3 in the morning you have a race at 8

max: youre not my mother

you: i am ur manager u ass

you: and i have ur mom’s cell no

you: i will fucking call her if ur stream doesn't turn offline in ten seconds

you: 10…

max: you wouldnt dare

you: 9…

He moves into a penthouse at the beginning of the year and purchases a jet, Dassault Falcon 900EX, to make the traveling easier. Flying commercial absolutely sucks, even first class.

When he mentions the money he spent; the penthouse rental cost, the price of the jet plus maintenance of the private plane service, you have stood up and went to the balcony to stare at the Monaco scenery to gather your thoughts. Max laughs as he watches your brain overheat. He tells security that you’re to be given an immediate pass into the building and his penthouse without the need of going through the strict security checks. He gives you a keycard that you barely use because you knock on the door every single time you come by. A month later, Kelly and Penelope move in and this is the beginning of the little family charade.

“What are you doing?”

“Is it not obvious?” you gesture to the iPad in your hand. “Readin’ a Lestappen fic in AO3.”

Max’s brows furrow.

“Lestappen?”

“The ship name between you and Charles. Lestappen. Leclerc, Verstappen, Lestappen,” you say as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world and he’s stupid for even asking, waving your hand in a complicated flourish. “It’s good. Top-tier literature. Want me to send you the link?”

Max’s nose scrunches, “So there are people who ship me and Charles?”

“You’d be surprised.”

“Romantically?”

You nod, “Want the link?”

“Absolutely not.”

You shrug your shoulders.

“Your loss.”

Max wins P1 (as things should be) in Austin, Hamilton P2, and Leclerc P3. The team holds a private drinking party in the hotel bar. Max sits with Leclerc, whom he has invited, and Lando, who came with Daniel, and Daniel because he’s Daniel and he still gets a free pass in Red Bull parties even though he’s in McLaren now.

Daniel passes him a bottle of Heineken and Max searches for the bottle opener on the table but it's nowhere. He reaches for you, who sits on the neighboring table with the PR team. Max grabs the hem of your polo shirt sleeve and tugs slightly to get your attention. He opens his mouth to ask if you’ve seen the bottle opener but you got to moving, not even giving Max the chance to speak.

Without even interrupting your conversation with the PR people or even breaking eye contact with the person who is talking animatedly, you take the beer bottle from Max’s hand, toss a hand towel on top of it, then you use your teeth to remove the cap. It opens with a loud click. You wipe the rim of the bottle, pocketing the bottle cap, before returning the Heineken to Max.

Max looks at the Heineken bottle in his hand.

You know, Sophie, Max’s mother, always say that there's a certain type of intimacy existing when two people are able to communicate without the use of words. People associate intimacy with bare skins and basking in the fragility and vulnerability of a person, but intimacy goes deeper than mere nakedness and showing all the bare parts of you to the other person. Intimacy comes hand in hand with truth. When you admit your truth to the other person, that's intimacy. Her knowing his truth, his needs, without him telling her. That's another kind. If that's not the purest form of love then he does not know what is.

Charles pats his shoulder to pull him to reality.

At that moment, Max decides he’s an asshole because he just realized that he likes his manager after she opens his beer bottle and he has a fucking girlfriend now.

Max wins WDC for the second year in a row. Leclerc is at second and Perez at third. He’s on the top of the fucking world. Everything feels right now that he’s standing at the top.

His eyes search for you in the crowd but he doesn't find you. Only Kelly. He kisses Kelly, celebrates with the team, and visits you in your hotel room later with a cold can of beer in hand. It's a little past midnight, his watch tells him. You open the door seconds after Max knocks.

“Have you talked to Horner?” you ask, accepting the beer and opening it. The loud click when you open it feels satisfying in his ears.

You’ve changed out of the Red Bull polo now and instead, you wear a black shirt.

“No,” Max shakes his head.

“When will you?”

“Soon.”

That's the only truth he can offer. Because the bigger truth is this: Max doesn't want you going anywhere, not even the engineering team who works closely with him. He only wants you here, beside him, behind him, at all times.

One more year. One more year and he's going to tell Christian to move you to the engineering team. One more year to have you and he’ll let you go.

(That's what he told himself last year, too.)

“Okay,” you nod and it relieves Max that you’re not arguing with him about it. “Congrats, Champ.”

You don't fly with him to Monaco. You don't fly with the team either. Instead, you fly to Texas immediately straight from Abu Dhabi. Max calls you once in the middle of break to greet you happy holidays and you mail him his gift—a clay keychain figure of him. He adds it to his keys, sitting right next to the beaded keychain you gave him back in 2020 and a bottle opener keychain in 2021.

2023

“Should I break up with Kelly?”

Your head snaps up at a speed that should be considered a hazard, stunned. You give Max a look that can be translated as: Did the g-force finally catch up to your brain?

“What prompted this?” you question, slowly setting Max’s laptop aside. You’re working on fixing his laptop’s wifi connection while he’s getting his makeup done for the Heineken ad filming. Once the makeup artist deemed him done and left the room, he immediately took the chance to ask the question.

“Nothing,” he lies.

“I’ll throw away your laptop if you don't tell me the truth,” you threaten.

“It's just—” Max pauses. His mouth feels dry. He licks his lips before continuing, “It’s just… I don't know how to explain it. It feels like I don't love Kelly anymore.”

I think I love you, [Name].

“Aight,” you grab a monoblock chair and drag it until it's right beside Max’s chair and plop your ass down. You sigh deeply before your face schools into complete seriousness. “Can't believe I’m the one givin’ you this talk. Uh, Max, you see, in a relationship, you typically experience this period called the honeymoon phase.”

Max nods slowly. He doesn't know where you're trying to get at but he clings on each word that leaves your mouth.

“The honeymoon phase can last anywhere from months to years and when it's done, the strong feelings and infatuation you have for Kelly decreases and that's natural. This is the stage where your bond with Kelly is strengthened,” you explain. “It's not all sunshine and rainbows. It can get boring. But the love is still there. It's just…well, less intense than before.”

He wants to ask if this happened to you and Leo as well, but he bites his tongue and says a different thing instead, “You give advice like a relationship guru.”

“Baby, I have a long list of ex-lovers. Kelly’s your first girlfriend. You don't have a say.”

Your birthday is near. Daniel shares to Max that he’s buying you a new ball cap this year, signed by your favorite professional billiard player. Max needs to give you something better.

He thinks about the things you like. He makes a list. It's a short one.

Beer

A spot in the engineering team.

Your family

He cannot give number three. He cannot give what you already have. He can give you number two but he doesn't want to. He doesn't want you to be anything other than his manager. He can give you number one but it'll be very lame of him if he gives you beer for your birthday. What is better than Daniel’s gift? What would you like more than a ballcap?

Max calls his sister that evening.

“Shoes,” she says. “Oh wait, that's a little hard. You might get her shoe size wrong.”

“She’s size 7. In Euro, 37,” Max states a little too quickly and a little too sure.

“How did you know her shoe size?” Victoria wonders.

“I don't know. I just watch her feet?”

“So, you estimated her shoe size by watching her feet like a creep?”

“I watch her feet a normal amount, Victoria,” Max insists.

“Max, I can't even tell my husband’s shoe size even if I stare at his feet for hours.”

“Maybe you just suck at estimating measurements.”

Max ends up getting the shoes with Victoria’s help. Victoria gets too irritated with him midway because he is too indecisive. He thinks all the shoes that’s displayed do not suit you.

It's not even this difficult when he’s picking shoes to give Kelly. Normally, he just asks the saleswoman to show him the most expensive or the latest in their stock and he buys it, instructs the storespeople to wrap it up and make sure the brand shows because Kelly likes it when the brand is big and bright and attention-grabbing.

“If you think nothing’s pretty enough then go get a custom made shoe,” she advises and then sighs in exasperation. Victoria shakes her head at him. It's not supposed to be a serious suggestion but Max takes it to heart.

Instead of black, Max goes for white. You rarely go in white clothing but when you do, you become so beautiful that Max has to stop himself from kneeling down in front of you and risking everything.

It has pearls and diamonds and satin. All beautiful things that reminded Max of you. Max wants, no, needs to see you put them on. He’s the one who puts it in a box. White-colored with peach stickers and a peach-colored ribbon.

Max plans to give them to you after he wins the Miami Grand Prix. But your family arrives just as he’s about to retrieve it from his driver’s room.

Max meets your family. A family that consists of happy parents and three brothers. You are your family’s unica hija.

Julio [Last Name], your father, is a big man and his accent is thicker than yours and he doesn't call you by your name, only the most affectionate-sounding mija. He reminds Max of a giant teddy bear. A giant teddy bear who crushes rocks for a living.

Your mother, on the other hand, is a stern-looking woman. Sally, her name was. She’s short, compared to you and her sons and her husband.

You have three brothers. One older—you call him Damiano. Two younger—Rafael and Dominic. You are more your mother than your father, Max notices. Appearance-wise anyway. Damiano, too. Sharp-looking, both of you. Your sharpness makes you look charming whereas your Damiano’s sharpness makes him look intimidating. Your two younger brothers are carbon copies of your father, a little round and with kinder looking features.

“Papa, Mama, Bro one, two, and three, this is Max,” you introduce him, smiling widely and you're doing that smile where you’re showing too much gums and your eyes are shaped like crescents. Happiness looks good on you.

He lets out an oof sound when your father engulfs him in a hug. Max hears you exclaim: “Papa!”

Max laughs and waves his hand to tell you that the hug is fine and is very much welcomed.

“Congratulations, Maxwell!” Julio claps Max’s shoulders.

“Papa, please,” you shake your head at your father’s antics. “It's just Max.”

“Ya want to join us for [Name]’s birthday?” Julio invites. Max catches your eyes. You mouth a no but Max shrugs and says, “Sure.”

Max joins the family dinner. It's held in a Mexican restaurant somewhere downtown. Originally, your family reserved a table for ten. But Max has gone ahead and reserved the entire restaurant by paying upfront. You slap Max’s hand but Max laughs and says, “Happy Birthday [Name].”

Over dinner, Maxs learns that Rafael, Dominic, and Damiano are the biggest motosport fans so they all talk about Formula One and occasionally MotoGP. He finds out that they're a big fan of Marc Marquéz. Max tells them that he knows Marc personally and shares his experiences with the man. He promises to send them the man’s signatures. You tell him that he doesn't have to. He tells you that it's his pleasure.

Max listens in attentively as Julio narrates his amazing tales about his work experience. You laugh at the surprised Pikachu face Max makes when Julio is telling the entire table about the creepy call he responded to just the other month. You and your mother occasionally join in on the conversation but are more comfortable with listening to the boys.

Later, you stand up to excuse yourself to go to the bathroom. Max stands from the table five minutes after you leave. He’s drunk too much soda so now he needs to take a piss.

“Are you okay?” Max asks as he catches you reapplying a layer of lipstick—a shade of nude rose—on the sink in front of the washroom.

You hold the lipstick in one hand but the other is holding your right arm, palm covering the word MANAGER printed on the sleeve of your Red Bull polo shirt like it's something to be ashamed about.

“Yeah.” A lie.

The rest of the night goes the way Max wants it. He almost wishes it won't end.

Kelly waits for him in his hotel room. She gives him a gift for winning P1. The shoe box in Max’s backpack remains untouched.

He’s got every country except Singapore, Saudi, and Azerbaijan under his belt. His third WDC is secure even if he loses Abu Dhabi, but Max is selfish. He still wants a P1 in Abu Dhabi so he fights and fights until no one can catch up because of how fast he was.

Kelly comes with him this time to watch him race and support him because it's the final race of the season and she also knows that Max is going to win WDC this year. P is over at her father right now so it's just the two of them.

“Babe!” Max looks up from his laptop. Kelly comes running in and Max’s eyes widened, horrified, when she sees that Kelly is holding it.

The white shoes.

Max stands abruptly. The laptop in his lap falls to the floor and shatters. He curses and crouches down to pick it up and save what he can save. When he looks up, Kelly is sitting on the bed now and is trying the shoes on. Max shoves the damaged laptop aside and strides towards her. He’ll deal with the laptop later.

“That's not—”

“Oh?” Kelly’s face morphs in confusion. “It doesn't fit.”

Kelly chuckles yet it sounds empty and dread pools in Max’s stomach.

“You bought me shoes many times already. There’s no way you’ll get my shoe size wrong.”

Max takes the shoes from her hand quickly and he puts them back carefully in the box.

“That's not for me,” Kelly states.

“It’s not for you,” Max echoes.

“Then who’s it for, Babe?”

Max doesn't answer. Instead, he avoids her gaze.

“Max Emilian Verstappen, who’s the shoes for?” Kelly is seething now.

For the first time in their two nearly three year long relationship, Max and Kelly get into a screaming argument. They get into arguments as all couples do, but never ones with screaming and crying and too much anger in one room.

“I can't go on like this anymore,” Kelly cries. “I can't. I let it go when you made me wait because you celebrated her birthday with her family. I let it go when you made her that crochet bag. I let it go when you bought a billiard table and brought it into our home because she likes playing billiards—”

“I tried breaking up with you!” Max roars and he sees Kelly flinch. “And you told me not to. You used Penelope so I wouldn't break up with you—”

“Do not even say my daughter's name—”

“It's true!” Max throws his hands in the air like a man gone mad. “I told you in fucking July that I think I’m losing feelings for you! You told me to not break up with you because Penelope already thinks of me as her father and it’ll break her heart if I kick you out of my house! I am NOT her father, Kel, her father’s Daniil! You only want me because I can give you everything you want! Money, pride, and a fucking father figure for your child!”

Kelly strikes his cheek. Sharp, fast, and strong. Max remains still in shock and stares ahead.

Kelly has officially become the second person in this world who has raised a hand at Max.

“I hate you,” Kelly utters it with so much intensity. “I hate you. We’re done.”

She leaves quickly.

Max’s phone buzzes.

you: hey champ. race is on in an hour n a half. u good to go?

max: yeah

max: i’ll be there soon

you: i’ll wait for u

max: you always do

Max races with the guilt that he's a cheating asshole. His mother will not be proud of it once she learns that her son has dated a girl and idiotically realized that he’s in love with his manager halfway through the relationship.

Despite the emotional turmoil that swirling inside him, Max takes P1 and becomes a third-time WDC. He celebrates with the team. You excuse yourself, saying you have something important to do, and Max doesn't bother asking you to stay because he knows he’ll visit you in your hotel room later with a cold can of beer. It’s become your ritual now.

He drinks with Daniel, Yuki, and Checo. Five bottles in, he spills everything. He pukes. It tastes disgusting. His world turns into a hazy blur. You came to his rescue because that's what you always do.

Max is so dumb for taking so long in realizing that he's in love with you. It's always been you. You and your dumb considerate attitude and your snarky personality and your crude mouth. He never realized how horrifyingly enormous his desire for you is until its right there in front of him with its mouth wide open, ready to swallow him whole.

you: landed

you: thanks for the jet

you: talk soon gotta get to papa 1st

max: ok

max: stay safe

max: your dad will be alright dont worry

you: i hope so

It has been seven days since the Abu Dhabi Grand Prix, three days since you left Monaco, two days since your last conversation in Instagram, and a day before Max flies to Belgium to celebrate the holidays with his mother and sister and his sister’s family.

max: are you okay?

max: just landed in belgium

max: mum and vic says hi

max: hey it's been a week now

max: is your dad okay?

max: im worried

max: call me soon please

max: happy holidays

max: or merry christmas

max: whatever you celebrate there in america

max: yeah i greeted a little too early

max: you didn't answer my call

max: im friends with logan now by the way

max: we talk at times

max: im trying to get him into sim racing

max: maybe it'll help him improve

max: happy holidays

max: i called your cell

max: you know christian just told me something funny

max: he sent an email this morning with a list of candidates for my 2024 manager

max: he said you resigned

max: very funny

max: please tell me you didn't

[cheriladycl01]

I need to go! No you need to race! - Max Verstappen x SwedishOlympicHockey! Reader

Plot: You get hurt during a hockey match at the Nationals and Mad Max makes a return for all the right reasons!

Usually yours and Max's timetable linked up, you'd be training or doing your tournaments from Monday to Wednesday which Max would join you on before you left in his jet with him to wherever his race was that weekend.

But this week you had a national tournament which was on a Saturday, Sunday where Max was in the world. It was race day for him, and he was using one of the televisions to watch your tournament being streamed.

He couldn't understand any of it, where it was in Swedish so he just watched on with some of the mechanics who knew you and were rooting for you.

It was a good game and you guys were winning, absolutely tearing up the hockey field of the stadium you guys were in. Every time you scored, everyone watching cheered and Max had a big grin on his face when it zoomed in on your face yelling in a smile.

He always found it funny when you smiled as you wore a mouth guard that made your cheeks look puffy.

But things took a turn, it was about 20 minutes until the end of your game and an hour before the race started. All the mechanics were crowed around the TV watching until one of the girls in the opposing team swung their stick up, just as another tripped you up causing the base of the stick to smash into your face.

Max's hand came up to cover his mouth and 'oooooo's' flowed around from the mechanics realizing what just happened.

"Is she okay?" one of them said.

"I could hear something break!" another admitted.

Max watched as a few girls helped you to stand, but it was hard your nose was streaming blood down your face and the knock had clearly made you a little fuzzy.

Max was frowning gripping his fists as he watched the girl who hit you argue with the ref and medics who came out. She was pretty much shouting while you held your nose to try and stop the blood flow coming out.

You were escorted off the pitch and Max immediately went to his phone hounding you with messages asking if you were okay.

When that didn't work he proceeded to blow up your fathers phone who had been at the match in person and would be with you, which also didn't work.

He was so caught up with trying to get in contact with you that he didn't see Christian come up to him.

"Max?" Christian asks tentatively having heard what happened from the mechanics.

"I need to go!" Max exclaims looking up still having no word from your family on how you are doing.

"No, you need to race!" Christian says looking to his watch which showed it wasn't long before he needed to get in the car.

"I can't get in contact with her though, and what if something happens when I'm racing and she needs me!" he admits angrily raising his voice at his team principle.

"Max, calm down!" Christian says, his voice going a little gruffer.

"NO! I need to know shes okay!" he shouts and everyone can tell he's getting madder by the second. He only ever got like this when he was younger and someone crashed into him, he didn't have as well a hold on his emotions back then than he did now. But that was slowly slipping.

He was arguing back and forth with Christian until his phone rang. It was your contact number.

He didn't answer straight away frozen in shock from your number being up there.

"Schat?" he asks as he holds his phone to his ear.

"läckerbit" you tease knowing he hated that nickname.

"Are you okay?" he asks and you can tell he's worried from the tense and strain in his voice.

"Focus on the race, I'm fine and you'll see me soon" you smile into the phone making loads of kissy noises to him before he sighs nodding. You reassure him before you hang up turning to the nurse who was coming back with the x-rays of you nose.

"Yeah, it's definitely broken!" she sighs showing you making ou sigh too.

"Oooo and you have a mild concussion!" she smiles kindly making you laugh a little.

After the race and his podium, Max rushed as quickly as his jet provided to get to the hospital in Sweden you were being helped in.

He tried to sleep on the flight but was far too nervous to the point where he was pacing up and down the free walkway in the middle of the jet until the airhost made him take a seat handing him a beer to calm his nerves.

When he arrived to your private room in the hospital to see you scrolling through your phone he didn't fully take in your appearance at first.

He didn't note the greasy hair, or the bags under your eyes or the stuff helping fix your nose.

"Hey Schat!" he sighs and your head snaps up you look at him in disgust and shock.

"No! Don't look at me!" you cry pulling his hoodie up over you head and face to cover everything. And he couldn't help but laugh at your reaction. Hiding from him as if he hadn't seen you at your worst.

"Why are you hiding from me Princess" he laughs coming over and sitting on the edge of the bed after having taking a picture of your embarrassment.

"Mmmmm i look awful!" you say peeking at him through the hood.

"I think you look beautiful, like always" he grins, kissing you cheek not wanting to risk kissing your lips and numbing his nose with yours.

y/user

Liked by maxverstappen1 and redbullracing

y/user: This weekend in order between my hockey competition and Max’s race.

Image 1 - me and my girlie frejalarsson getting ready for battle (we had a national tournament)

Image 2 - Max at his race to me tacking a hockey stick to the face 😳 (my nose was bleeding pretty bad)

Image 3 - Max leaving after his race on Sunday to fly to me in Sweden to visit me in the hospital. (I looked awful and was embarrassed)

Image 4 - going with Max to Monaco to get cuddles from Jimmy and Sassy

It’s been eventful to say the least!

Tagged 2 People

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redbullracing: get well soon y/n!

maxverstappen1: now I know how you feel when I get into a crash! Scariest moment of my life! So glad you are okay! 🥰

-> y/user: Love you Käresta 🤭🫶🏼

landonorris: get well soon y/n! Need you in the club asap 🍾🎈

-> y/user: i broke my nose Lando …

-> landonorris: so you can’t party with a broke nose? LAME!

-> maxverstappen1: I’m breaking your nose next buddy if you aren’t careful ❗️

-> landonorris: 😦

Instagram Story Caption: Lego Date 🧱

Taglist:

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[grillthegridmydear]

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: 　Love You Like A Love Song - Part One :･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧

F1 Grid X Reader

The grid reacts to a love song you wrote about them.

Part Two

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Max Verstappen

✧Wildest Dreams - Taylor Swift

Max was almost always found on the race track, if not in real life then in the simulator with team redline or just solo streaming. It was his comfort zone, what he knew best. Stepping out of that comfort usually had Max counting down the seconds until it was over and he could go back home to you and the cats, but today was different seeing as he had followed you to the studio on this particular winter morning. You were so secretive on the jet ride to London, furiously scribbling in your leather notebook that was falling apart from being under constant strain of ripped out pages, daily use and the odd time that Sassy got her claws on it when it was left out in odd spaces in their home.

"Tell me again why I had to be here today if I am not allowed to hear the new songs yet?" he mumbled with a cheeky grin as he followed you through the door out of the cold and rainy weather, the recording studio was warm at least. Elliot, your producer, got there before them and had boosted the heat in the building to knock the chill out of your bones before what promised to be a long day in front of the mic. "Because we only have one more song to record Maxie, and I want to know what you think of it." You never really meant to be secretive about your music but the nerves of releasing this particular album were leagues higher than in the past since it was your first studio album since you and Max had started dating a year ago.

You met on night two of the European leg of your last tour, Victoria was a big fan of your music and had dragged Tom and Max to your Amsterdam show. His only exposure to you prior to that night had been through the walls of his sisters home when he came to see his nephews but seeing you on stage that night was the nail in the coffin on his single life. Being the world famous racing driver that he was gave him the chance to meet you after the show and the rest was history.

Which led him to where he was today, sitting on the ridiculously comfortable couch behind the production table watching you working on the final piece of the puzzle that would make up your newest record.

"Alright, lets get playback and do a first run through." Elliot prompted you through the microphone that fed his voice through the soundproof booth into your headset. One nod of acknowledgement from you and the playback started, Max could hear the live feed through the speakers for the first time and the drum beat caused him to sit forward with his full attention.

The last thing he was expecting was the lyrics that came out through those speakers,

He's so tall and handsome as hell

He's so bad, but he does it so well

You had always joked about him being your muse since the week you started dating, when you would be on dates and he would see you stop dead in your tracks to pull out that notebook.

Say you'll remember me

Standing in a nice dress

Staring at the sunset, babe

Red lips and rosy cheeks

Say you'll see me again

Even if it's just in your wildest dreams, ah-ah, ha

He felt the flush in his cheeks and the grin rise on his cheeks before he even had the chance to fully process what was happening. The song you were most excited to show him that you couldn't even wait until the album was finished, it was about him.

After the initial recording session Elliot busied himself with the hundreds of buttons, sliders and dials on the panel in front of him, you crouched to get your water bottle, ready to go again if needed but Max, he couldn't take his eyes off of you even if he tried. When the ok was given from Elliot you crept out from behind the door of the booth with a shy smile on your face as you made your way to stand in front of him, awaiting the reaction of the love of your life.

"so what do you think?"

Max could barely get the words out between the kisses he was peppering all over your face and neck.

"Vic is going to be so jealous I got a song."

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✧Lando Norris

✧Nonsense - Sabrina Carpenter

Your Vegas show was strategically planned to fall the day before Lando had to be stuck in the paddock all weekend for the first Las Vegas Grand Prix, which led to many of the drivers and their girlfriends to fill up the VIP section of the theatre that housed hundred of excited fans waiting excitedly to see you take the stage.

You and Lando had known each other for years, being in the same year in school up until your GCSE's when he had left to focus on racing and you had moved from England to the states to pursue your music career. You were childhood sweethearts that stood the test of time and the long distance to end up where you are today, both living in Monaco during the off season with you accompanying Lando to each and every race in the last year, spending all your spare time in one of two places, the studio or cuddled up in Lando's arms in the privacy of your apartment. But with your first full studio album skyrocketing you through the charts a world tour soon followed and it had been a few weeks since your schedules had synced up enough to allow you both some real time to spend together. Lando had never been so thankful to have the racing season coming to a close in a few weeks, and with your last 5 shows coming in the following days to wrap up the tour he was ecstatic to have you all to himself for winter break.

His conversation with Oscar and Lily was cut short when the familiar piano notes of 'Emails I Can't Send' ring out through the venue and the screams and cheers of everyone in the room make a dumb grin break out on his face. Your figure appearing on the stage in your iconic tour outfit that Lando was obsessed with, but what made his smile bigger was the slight changes in the style of the outfit that graced your body on the stage, your dress that was usually a hot pink or lavender colour was changed to the oh so familiar papaya colour he knew as his team colours and your white boots had the number 4 emblazoned on them in his iconic neon yellow branding on the chunky heel stem.

The night was electric as he watched you up there, giving the crowd what he would say is the night of their lives as song after hit song was performed with your infectious talent and energy.

Right as the final notes of 'Sue Me' rang out to the crowd he expected the show to end as he knew the set list by heart from being to a few shows at the beginning of the tour, but you weren't leaving the stage and as you started speaking to the crowd his fixed gaze that had been watching you the whole night was broken as he heard the hushed conversation of some of the WAGs that were surrounding him, he barely had time to notice that Alexandra, Lily and Rebecca were looking at him with shit eating grins on their faces and Carlos was recording him on his phone before you stole his attention again.

"So guys, my boyfriend is actually in the crowd tonight." was all you managed to say before the fans cheered, hundreds of faces looking right at him as you let out that beautiful laugh he loves so much before continuing. "Lando is racing in Vegas this weekend and I've been on tour so I haven't been able to see him in like, forever. But the cool thing about that is he hasn't been able to hear this next song, same as you guys."

An unfamiliar melody started to loop through the venue as the cheers of fans kicked up once again. Pure confusion spread across his face as you continued to introduce the new song. "So this is my new single on the deluxe edition of the album and I hope you all enjoy it."

The room was electric as you began to sing, and Lando very quickly realised the reason why everyone of the drivers and their partners surrounding him had the same reaction, because Lando was not expecting to have a song about him drop that very night, but god was he glad it was.

I'll be honest

Lookin' at you got me thinkin' nonsense

Cartwheels in my stomach when you walk in

And when you got your arms around me

Ooh, it feels so good I had to jump the octave

His face felt like it was on fire but his ego was growing by the second.

I'm talkin' all around clock

I'm talkin' hope nobody knocks

I'm talkin' opposite of soft

I'm talkin' wild, wild thoughts

You gotta keep up with me

I got some young energy

I caught the L-O-V-E

How do you do this to me?

The song began to end and the last lines of the outro had Lando impossibly excited for the night to end so he finally got to have you to himself again.

he loves me so good its downright heinous

this songs P1 in my boyfriends playlist

what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas

Oh yeah, he was definitely glad he got you all to himself.

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Oscar Piastri

✧Human - Dodie

University had been consuming what felt like your entire existence, barely having enough time or energy to apply to anything that didn't involve coursework, especially since you had your contemporary song writing final project due in a few days. Life had consisted of spending days locked away in your dorm room in front of your travel keyboard trying to construct a melody that felt lightyears away from you.

"You can't keep rotting away in there you know, I don't think we will get our deposit back if you melt into the carpet."

Hattie had been your best friend from the day you started preschool, your entire lives had been spend joined at the hip, you were unable to be separated in your younger years, down to the first days of school every year which were spent in the Piastri home's kitchen eating a breakfast that Nicole had made while you and Hattie chattered so loud that the whole house was brought to life with your laughter. Your tight bond had extended to today, where you both sat in the shared kitchen of your university housing, cups of tea decorating the table along with a pair of laptops and more sheet music blank than filled.

This had easily become the hardest assignment of your degree for you, where Hattie seemingly had no issue and was just finishing the arrangements of her own work before she got to submit her assignment and go home for summer break, you on the other hand felt like smacking your head against the wall, your fractured concentration being split even further by the commentary coming from your phone that was propped up in front of 6 crumpled pieces of composition paper, the Spanish Grand Prix well underway on the other side of the world, where Hattie's brother (who just so happened to be your boyfriend) was in the final laps of his race weekend.

"I know, I cant for the life of me figure out what's wrong. Nothing I've written feels good enough and I really don't want to fail this assignment. The last thing I need is to be back here in three months to repeat this class."

The voices that seeped from your phone announced that with that final lap the race was over and glancing at the chart that took up the left side of the screen a smile broke out on your face. Hattie let her curiosity get the better of her as she rounded the table to watch over your shoulder. "P2, He will be happy with that."

Your whole body itched for a change of scenery after a further 30 minutes with no progress so while Hattie started on dinner for you both you slipped on a jacket and stuffed your notebook into your pocket, heading outside for some fresh air. The weather had cooled only slightly compared to the usual stifling Australian heat which allowed you to sit under the awning of the bike sheds outside the building. Your phone rings not 2 minutes after you settle into a comfortable position, a the familiar contact flashing on the screen as you swipe to answer.

"Congratulations on your podium, Osc." Your words rang out through the empty courtyard as familiar breathing was heard in your ear, the boy you had loved since your childhood clearly having settled in his drivers room after his race. "Thank you, how is your assignment going? Still giving you trouble?" Your audible groan at the mention of the demonic workload hanging over your week was met with warm laughter on the other end of the phone. "That bad huh?"

"I don't know why but I haven't been able to focus enough to even get a melody going, everything I've tried sounds like it was written by The Wiggles." The snort of laughter that rang through her ears eased the stress that held her body hostage by the second and her own laughter broke out to match. "Hey, everyone loves The Wiggles, I think you would make a very cute Wiggle personally."

Oscar's words had her breaking up laughing this time. "Yeah, you would say that." Her voice taunted him over the line, memories flooding her mind of the ridiculous stories that Nicole had told her when she and Oscar had first gotten together when he came back after graduating from his British boarding school, about Oscar being five years old and in love with the Yellow Wiggle at that stage in his life. "I know you can make something amazing, everything you write is so incredible but you need to be kinder to yourself love, you're only human after all."

Oscar's advice rang through her mind as she ended the call with him, his presence being required to go to his post race debrief before he could go to the airport to fly back home to start the summer break with her. Before she could blink the floodgates in her mind finally let loose the creativity that she had been craving since she began the writing process a week ago. Sprinting up the stairs she had just enough time to grab the bowl of spaghetti Hattie had prepared her with a rushed thank you thrown over her shoulder.

An hour and a half later she finally submitted the dreaded assignment and packed her microphone away with the rest of her minimal recording equipment, quickly attaching the audio file to a text and sending it to Oscar before the night caught up with her and she drifted off to sleep in the navy blue OP81 hoodie that she wore to death.

The next morning was hectic, full of packing and cleaning as both girls got ready to pack up Hattie's car and get on the road, with the semester finally over and the promise of a few weeks on the road with Oscar melting the last of her stress. In the chaos of the morning she didn't get to check her messages until noon, where she was met with two texts, one from Logan and one from Oscar.

Oscars message was opened first, a quick 'I knew you could do it <3' sent in the middle of the night, considering the time difference it must have been when he was getting on his flight. The message from Logan showed a video of Oscar sitting on the plane, her voice playing through the speakers of Oscars phone as he stared at it with pure adoration in his eyes.

I want to give you your grin So tell me you can't bear a room that I'm not in Paint me in trust I'll be your best friend Call me the one This night just can't end Oh Oh, I'm so human We're just human

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George Russell

✧Bewitched - Laufey

"Remind me why I'm doing this again, this feels like something that I shouldn't be allowed to do."

The ball of stress that stood in front of George pacing in a midnight blue evening gown would have been the funniest thing in the world to him if he was looking at anyone in the world other than you, his beautiful girlfriend who looked about 3 seconds away from passing out. This seemed like an appropriate time as any for you to suddenly develop stage fright, because you were used to busking on the streets of London with your guitar in your teenage years, eventually moving up to small, intimate gigs in your early 20s to crowds that seemed smaller than a classroom, this was in a whole different ballpark. George met you when you both attended a charity event three years before that was funding for sick children across the UK, part of what drew him to you was your unwavering confidence that you walked through life with, he supposed that musicians had to be born with a certain level of audacity but you were unlike anyone he had ever met before, which is why your anxious behaviour was such a shock to the system.

It eventually became too much for George to take as he stood from his seat in the dressing room and held you firm by the hips, halting you from burning a permanent line in the ridiculously expensive carpet that lined the floors. That seemed to do the trick as you finally managed to take a deep enough breath to ease the tension in your body long enough to look him in the eyes. "What if it's shit Georgie?"

Your statement pulled a chuckle from him before he he could think to stop it. "Impossible love, you've never been shit at anything you've ever done." His reassurance sent a visible comfort through your body as the rest of your muscles relaxed. "Except for padel, you are brutal at padel." George took the laugh that lit up the room as a good sign, god he loved your laugh, he once described it as reminding him of sleigh bells at Christmas which got a good laugh out of Lando and Alex, they still hadn't let him live it down, not that he minded much.

The knock at the door sent your body rigid once more as the stage hand that had been sent for you poked his head around the door to give you a 5 minute warning until you took to the stage. It was unlike anything you had ever done before, George supposed that being invited to perform at one of the most prestigious concert halls in the UK was daunting to begin with, but being asked to perform at their anniversary celebration that was being attended by what seemed like every important person they could think of, royalty included, well George was impressed that this was the extent of your nerves. A big deal indeed.

"You'll be watching me the whole time?"

Your request was endearing if unnecessary, because there were very few moments in his life now that George was not totally enraptured by you, he had been the muse of many memes in his time but his favourite had to be all the times that journalists and fans alike had compiled evidence of the many times that George was probably supposed to be paying attention to something, a meeting, a conversation, but his eyes never left you. "I'll be in the wings the entire time my love, now go, break a leg."

Heavy velvet curtains hid him from sight as the lights faded on to reveal you, centre stage and framed by a beautiful orchestra. The polite applause was so different from the screams of fans that he was used to hearing on a race weekend, but it set the tone as the orchestra began to play, now George was familiar with pretty much every song you had ever written due to how often your voice could be heard through your shared home, but this song was completely new, you had kept it under lock and key deeming it a surprise. As your voice joined the strings and woodwinds he began to realise that this was a wonderful surprise indeed.

You bewitch me Every damn second you're with me I try to think straight But I'm falling so badly, I'm coming apart You wrote me a note, cast a spell on my heart And bewitched me Bewitch You bewitched me

As the audience broke out into thunderous applause and you took your bow, George took a moment to pat the small square box in the pocket of his suit jacket, the box that held the promise of forever.

Bewitched was the only word word to describe him.

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Logan Sargeant

✧Pancakes for Dinner - Lizzy Mc Alpine

In the last few years Logan had been away from his family and friends during the Fourth of July weekend. It was never easy, he spent most of his childhood surrounded by all the people he loved most, with barbecue food and football on the beach filling up the day, the celebrations starting early in the morning and ending with the insane firework display at night. They were some of his favourite memories, the ones that comforted him on the days and nights when his career started to feel like a noose around his neck that tightened with every race weekend that didn't go according to plan.

Which is why he was so happy that this year, the race calendar perfectly bordered his beloved holiday, with Austria ending mere hours before he found himself on a flight back to Florida to celebrate on his week off before Silverstone. Seeing his family was a welcome reprieve from his hectic life, but seeing you was the cherry on top of a perfect week.

The firepit that roared at the beginning of the night had died down to a comforting glow, the beach behind his family home now empty apart from you and him, the rest of the guests gone inside to continue the festivities in the house. "It's good to have you back Lo, I miss you a lot when you're off living the dream" your voice carries across the space between you as you messed with the guitar that sat on your lap, beer forgotten at your feet as you strummed random chords. You had always been his best friend ever since you both met at a karting track as kids, he used to race with your brother before he decided that baseball was his calling, but you and Logan were attached at the hip until he left to move to England to take his career to another level. Now your friendship consisted of facetime calls, battling with time zone differences instead of a 10 minute walk to your house. "You should agree to come to more races then, you know you're invited to basically every one right?"

In reality he knew that globetrotting with him to a new country every fortnight wasn't that simple. You were a veterinary nurse in Florida and he was a racing driver, both of your schedules too hectic to allow for any real time spent together that didn't involve him making the trip back to his hometown. "You really want to put me and your boss on the same continent, I'm too pretty to go to jail!"

The two of you busted up into laughter at the idea of James Vowels being unfortunate enough to be close enough to you that you could finally give the man a piece of your mind. "I do miss Lily though, so might have to take some time off for Austin this year." The fake offended noise that left his lips made you laugh hard enough that Logan was sure his neighbours could hear you. He was sure that the only bond that could rival the one you shared with him was the one that you held with his teammates girlfriend, the fact that you had spent more time at the golf course with Lily this year than you had seeing him face to face sparked emotions in him that he wasn't quite ready to acknowledge.

"What are you playing there?"

The sly smile that crept up onto your face, illuminated by the firelight made his heart stutter, your answer didn't betray your emotions as you started strumming the melody more clearly.

"I wrote you something."

Logan swore his pulse started up in double time as you met his eyes. You had played guitar since you were eight years old but your own songs had been secret for as long as he can remember. But something in the moment caused you to let him into a part of your life he was sure he would never see.

"Play it for me."

The world around them was muffled and felt a million miles away as you nodded before training your eyes on the black ocean in front of you both. Lyrics flowing from you before you changed your mind.

I wanna eat pancakes for dinner I wanna get stuck in your head I wanna watch a T.V. show together And when we're under the weather we can watch it in bed I wanna go out on the weekends I wanna dress up just to get undressed I think that I should probably tell you this In case there is an accident And I never see you again So please save all your questions for the end And maybe I'll be brave enough by then

Laughter from the house behind you both broke the electric energy that filled the air.

"So? What do you think?"

Logan could only hope his kiss was worth a thousand words.

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Alex Albon

✧Juno - Sabrina Carpenter

There wasn't a person alive that believed the joke that Alexander Albon was the biggest WAG in the world than the man himself. While he spent his days driving his Williams car in the midfield of the F1 grid he was more than aware that you kissed him good morning every day you spent together, only to go and play a sold out concert to a stadium of adoring fans, of which Alex was your biggest.

He still found himself pinching his arm whenever he saw you, either on stage playing the global superstar or in the comfort of your own home playing with your puppy Juniper. It seemed uncharacteristic of him when he slid into your DM's one night after seeing a concert with his sisters, but fate apparently had his cards picked out in his favour when you visited a race a few weeks later as a guest of Red Bull and he got to meet you in person, the rest was history as you had been dating the Thai driver ever since.

The distance wasn't always easy but this particular summer break lined up perfectly with the end of the US leg of your most recent tour, which is how you both ended up spending your three week break in Bali, completely wrapped up in each other with no work interruptions.

Until today that is.

His place in your shared bed gave him the perfect view of you pacing the balcony of the villa that had been rented for the duration of your stay. His eyes easily following your body as it appeared in the doorway before disappearing just as quick, back and forth as you spoke to your management team on the phone, a call which was hitting the forty minute mark, causing his patience to wear thin. Luckily just before the call was about to hit an hour in length you ended it and your figure bounding back into the room caused him to sit up against the headboard. You grabbed your laptop from your bag before sliding back into bed, lips meeting his before you settled in and began furiously searching through the files on your desktop.

"what part of vacation do they not understand?" he groaned, his face finding the crook of your neck as you let out a laugh, nudging his side.

"That was Marcus, Short and Sweet drops in an hour."

Alex could feel the excitement vibrating through your body. Your most recent album had been in the works for months and while he usually got to live through the entire process with late night writing sessions and studio visits between races, you had been oddly secretive when it came to this one. He was excited for you, he loved your voice and your music was what had brought you together so seeing you continue to make the music that made you so happy made the challenges that came with your relationship worth it.

A soft "aha" pulled him out of his daydream as you pulled up the folder that contained the songs. He sat up again, ready for the full listening party that he was so used to at this point. Which is why his proud grin turned a tad confused as you dragged the cursor down to the third to last track on the album, his question died on his tongue as you pressed play on the file titled Juno (A.A<3) and the music started to pour through the speakers of your laptop.

Oh, I know you want my touch for life If you love me right, then who knows? I might let you make me Juno You know I just might (Might) Let you lock me down tonight One of me is cute, but two though? Give it to me, baby You make me wanna make you fall in love

His ears burned as the song ended and by the look on your face he was reacting exactly how you wanted.

"So? What do you think?"

Your laptop tumbled onto a stray cushion that found its way onto the floor, as he tackled you back onto the sheets. laughter filling the room.

Thank god for the end of the tour.

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Part two will be up asap. Requests are open.

Hope you enjoyed!

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:

[81folklore]

call it what you want- STROLL

pairings: lance stroll x streamer!reader (fc: sagemommy69)

summary: streamer yn gets on gossip sites for supposedly dating a driver, due to her being close friends with max fewtrell people assume shes dating lando, she shuts that rumor down pretty quickly

authors note: this was based on this request. i honestly wasnt sure where this was going so i hope its alright, didnt really have any motivation but knew i needed to get it done so🤷 also incase you dont know ‘bob’ is the name lando goes by on max’s and friends streams

authors note 2: kinda short, kinda sweet idk. i did this in about an hour and ive already found a few mistakes in the stream highlights but i deleted everything so you will have to make do! reminder that requests are open but currently only working on social media au requests or any that i can turn into smaus (also if you have a song/artistin mind please put that in your request along with a faceclaim if you have one!!)

masterlist

duexmoi added to their story

yourusername

liked by max_fewtrell, tokibbi and 1,263,719 others

teaching max_fewtrell valo and then 5 stack w/ max, jollz, toki + josh!! live on twitch 💐

view comments

user7 ahh ive missed the streams!!

max_fewtrell i feel underprepared

yourusername you better hope your not we need you to carry

user88 excited for max to play valo

yourusername get ready for some wonderful reyna gameplay

user26 THE FLOWERS..MOTHERS GETTING TREATED GOOD

user6 only recently started following, who are they from?

user26 honestly no idea, shes never posted them before😭

tokibbi 🩵🩵

your stream highlights

yourusername

liked by lance_stroll, landonorris, joshseki and 1,729,179 others

i want to wear his initial on a chain round my neck not because he owns me, but because he really knows me💐

tagged: lance_stroll

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user55 HARD LAUNCH HARD LAUNCH

user7 she really saw the lando rumors still flying and said ‘no.’

user61 THEYRE SO CUTE WHATBTHE HELL

user88 SHE LOVES HIM😭HE LOVES HER😭

user12 theyre both 3 apples tall🤏

max_fewtrell why are you kissing on my timeline

yourusername this is what happens when people think i’d date bob

lance_stroll my babys fly like a jet stream

yourusername HIGH ABOVE THE WHOLE SCENE LOVES ME LIKE IM BRAND NEW

lance_stroll i love you!!

yourusername i love YOU!!

landonorris which is more than they can say🎶

yourusername 🚨swiftie alert🚨

landonorris reputation and 1989 are bangers

yourusername so real and true lando norris

user60 i love how we’re all pretending these two make sense and we arent shocked😭😭

user27 RIGHT?? why are we pretending we were expecting it??

joshseki tell max im never playing valorant with him again

yourusername max_fewtrell hes basically saying you sucked

max_fewtrell not fair..reyna was harder than i expected

user8 this is literally the most insane post, we have yn + lance, lance being a swiftie, LANDO?? being a swiftie and loving 1989 and rep (TASTE) and then max and yn arguing😭

[brooooswriting]

Hi. I really love your writing. I would like to request a natasha x female reader shot. They have been dating for a long time, which started only two months after y/n joins the team. They are a very happy couple. One day, y/n had a mission with clint and he ended up getting injured. Natasha blames y/n as he is her best friend and they met long before nat started dating y/n. Even when y/n said that she did try to protect clint, nat did not believe her. They had a huge argument and nat says something that hurts y/n. After the fight, y/n try to patch up her relationship with natasha. Even when nat keeps hurting and ignoring y/n, she never gives up. Two weeks after the fight, they have a mission together with Yelena. Nat stays on the quinjet and yelena and y/n enter the base. They were then ambushed. Even though y/n is already injured, she just thinks about keeping yelena safe as she is afraid that nat will get even more angry at her if yelena is injured. Yelena get out unscathed but y/n is seriously injured. Before she pass out on the quinjet, she says " i hope you are no longer angry at me. i saved your sister." at natasha. Either y/n survives or not i will leave that up to you. Please keep it long and as angsty as possible. Sorry for the long request. I just really love your story. Happy writing.

Your fault

Natasha Romanoff x reader (romantic), Maria hill x reader (platonic), avengers x reader (platonic)

Becoming a part of the avengers was the best thing that has ever happened to you. You finally felt like you did something for the society, you used your time right and you met some of the greatest people ever. Including Natasha, the love of your life. Only two months after joining she asked you out and the rest has been history. That was now three years ago and you two were the happiest and best couple anybody knew, you were communicative and understanding. Every argument you ever had was solved in a matter of hours.

Until one particular mission.

You were out with Clint and everything went wrong. Every. Damn. Thing. It started with some wrong coordinates from a newbie you’d definitely get fired once you were out of this. You ended up somewhere completely different, making you way later than you were supposed to be.

But at that time, you and Clint thought it was going to be okay. After all the building was supposed to be empty, two to three agents at max. So you went inside with barely any equipment or weapons. The only thing you were supposed to do was clear the hardware, something the two of you had done countless times. Out of nowhere a couple of dozen agents started to appear, forming around you. It was a hard fight and you both barely got out, once you got out of the building you saw an agent aim at Clint. You immediately tried to push him away into safety, or at least out id the bullets way, but he did the same to you and in that moment he was stronger than you.

Three shots later, Clint was bleeding and slowly loosing consciousness making you carry most of him back to the jet. “You can’t die buddy. Cmon you got family” you mumbled over and over as you put the compounds coordinates into the jet before running back to put pressure on to his wounds. “F.R.I.D.A.Y. Alarms Cho, Bruce and Tony. Clint needs to go into the OR immediately” Clint was shifting in and out of consciousness. “You shouldn’t have jumped in the way you idiot” you grumbled as tears formed in your eyes.

Twenty minutes later you arrived. Clint was unconscious and the moment the jet touched the ground doctors streamed in and got Clint out. One doctor and Maria hill walking towards you, you had some scratches, some bruises and one deeper wound on your stomach but nothing against Clint. You saw Nat running alongside Clint, it hurt you a little that she didn’t even look for you but you got it. She knew him for such a long time and after all he was the one who saved her. “Are you alright?” Maria asked as she saw the blood seeping through your uniform.

“Yeah, I’m good” you told her with a smile that was way less convincing once you stood up and nearly fell over. The S.H.I.E.L.D agent was quick to catch you with her arms around your waist and helped you into the hospital wing of the compound.

“What the hell y/n” Natasha said as she stormed towards you, an angry look on her face as Maria helped you sit down on a stretcher. Before you could even open your mouth she started to scream. “How could you let this happen?! He has a family and now he’s bleeding out in the OR” she was heaving and her eyes were squinting at you.

“I’m sorry Nat, he-“ she didn’t even let you finish before she started to scream at you again. Alerting everyone in the wing.

“You’re sorry? Do you think that is going to fix anything? No, it isn’t! You should have done something! You should have thought this through. But no, of course you didn’t. Why didn’t you do anything? Why weren’t you more cautious?”

“I tried to do something, I tried to push him away but he did the same to me Nat. Do you think I wanted this? Don’t you think I know that he has a family?” You asked, your voice still calm as you didn’t wanna fight. You were scared for Clint and everything hurt, the last thing you needed was Natasha screaming at you and giving you the fault for things that you already knew were your fault.

“You tried? You tried to push him away? How can you fail at something so easy?! God, you’re useless. He has people that love him and value him, not like you. It should have been you y/n, you should be laying in that OR fighting for your life. Because your death wouldn’t even impact half as many people as his does. You don’t deserve to sit here with a small wound crying, you should be in there dy-“ before she could finish Maria jumped in, all of the other avengers standing around you too shocked about what just happened.

“That’s enough Agent. Leave the room right now” she ordered making the redhead scoff but leave, everybody else still standing around your bed. You tried to keep your tears in as best as possible as you didn’t want the team to see you cry. “Everybody out, right now” nobody dared to argue with her so they quickly left the room, Wanda shooting you a soothing smile.

The moment the room was empty you cried into Maria’s arms. “Do you wanna sleep over tonight?” She asked carefully, understanding if you didn’t wanna see Natasha tonight. But before you could answer one doctor spoke up.

“She’s sleeping here tonight. It seems like hydra experimented with some substances that makes them heal slower and it makes everything more painful, so we wanna keep an eye on that” he explained before leaving.

“Do you want me to stay?”

“No, it’s alright. I guess you got a lot of paper work to do now” she chuckled slightly at you. “But for real, it’s okay. It’s just one night but thank you” not long after she left, but not before bringing you a book and some tea.

Three hours later Tony came into your room, shawarma in his hand and your phone and headphones. “I thought you could use something to eat and an update about Clint. Turns out the bullets were infused with something that thins out his blood which is why he lost consciousness so quickly, but the bullets hit nothing vital. We could get the bullets out and stitch him up without any problems. He’s connected to some blood and should be up in an hour” he explained as he gave you the food, a small smile on his lips.

“Thanks tons, but I’m not hungry and I’m happy to hear that Clint is alright. When he’s awake can you tell him that I am deeply sorry?” You asked, looking at your hands instead of Tony. There was a moment of silence, and you knew he was contemplating wether to say something or not but he decided against it and only gave you an okay before leaving.

Two hours later the door opened again and Wanda entered. While you were happy to see the witch you had hoped that it would be Natasha. “Hey” she mumbled as she sat on the chair next to your bed, two teas in her hand and a book under her arm.

“Hey, what are you doing here?” You asked as you took the tea and thanked her.

“Well, everybody is camping next to Clint’s bed and I could hear your thoughts scream. So I thought you could use the company” she explained, placing a hand on yours in a comforting manner.

There was a moment of silence after she told you that Clint was doing well. “What Natasha said was out of line y/n, you don’t deserve that and there are a lot of people who would have missed you” she said as she looked up from her book.

“She was right, he has family and so many people that love him. The only person that loves me, or well loved, just told me that she actually doesn’t. But I promise I tried to protect him Wanda. I really did” the witch took your hand and gave it a comforting squeeze.

“I know y/n, the memory keeps replaying in your head and it is so loud that I can’t blend it out. But you know, when Pietro died sacrificing himself for Clint and that child I was devastated and so mad at Clint. It took me a while to realize that there was nothing that Clint could have done to stop him, and that I had no reason to be mad at him. But it took me some time you know?” Her voice was so soothing that nearly all the weight of the terrible day fell off of you.

The next day you were finally let out of the hospital but you weren’t really allowed to do anything. After a long discussion with the doc you could finally convince him to keep quiet about your condition, if he would talk about it it would just steer up certain arguments again.

The first thing you did was visit Clint, or rather you tried to but before you could Natasha appeared in front of the door. “Where do you think you’re going?” She asked in her Black widow voice, not her normal soft voice that she had with you.

“In there, I wanna talk to Clint. See how he’s doing you know, say how sorry I am for what happened” you explained, fiddling with your fingers.

“You’re not going anywhere near him. You don’t deserve to say that you’re sorry. You don’t get the relieve of having the opportunity to apologize” she hissed making you take a step back.

“Nat, come on. Can we talk about this?” Your voice was small and timid but she didn’t care. She turned and walked away as if you were nothing to her, as if you hadn’t been in a relationship for over three years.

You noticed how tired she looked so you decided to make her and Clint some coffee, hoping that that would lift her spirit. So you made each coffee to their liking before putting it on to a tray with a small note that read ‘you looked tired. Hope it makes you feel better. Love, your girlfriend’. You put it down in front of Clint’s room and knocked before turning and walking away. Hoping that you were giving her the space she needed.

When Natasha opened the door she couldn’t help but roll her eyes as she saw the tray, immediately knowing who had left it there. She still picked it up and carried it inside, both her and Clint could use the coffee. “Oh, that looks like y/n coffee. How is she holding up?” He asked as he grabbed one of them weakly, a small smile on his face at the thought of a hurt you still making them coffee.

“She’s good” Natasha only mumbled as she stared into the mug, avoiding eye contact with her best friend.

“What is going on between you two?” He asked her but she was quick to brush him off. It was suspicious and he was 95% sure that she did something stupid but he was too weak and too tired to solve it right there right now, especially if she didn’t wanna talk about it.

Later that day you sat in your shared bedroom with Natasha, staring at the door hoping that she’d come but no luck. When it was around 11:45 p.m. you decided to go to bed, the pain killers were slowly wearing off and everything started to hurt again, so you laid in bed and hoped for her to come and hold you.

She did come, at around 1 a.m. but she laid as far from you as she could. She made a point of not touching you as if you were contagious. It broke your heart even more but you just pretended to be asleep.

The next morning you woke up before her to bring her breakfast in bed which turned out to be a very stupid idea. When you arrived with the breakfast on a tray the redhead was already awake checking her phone. “Hi, I made you breakfast” you mumbled as you put the tray down on her nightstand.

“No thank you” was the only answer you got, she didn’t even look up.

“But-“

“Do you think that everything is just forgotten? Or that some lousy breakfast is going to undo everything?! The only reason I came back here yesterday is because Hill got my old room and Clint told me to go sleep in a real bed” she hissed making your eyes tear again.

“I’m sorry, I’ll leave” you told her as you grabbed the tray and disappeared into Hills room. The brunette sat on her table working on some paperwork when you came in. “Want some breakfast?” You asked her with a small smile.

“Oh, thank y- what happened hun?” She asked when she saw your red eyes, she had been your first friend here, she was the person who recruited you.

“It’s alright, can I just lay here for a bit and watch you work?” You asked carefully and immediately received a nod, so you settled into her bed and watched as she tipped and scribbled and did whatever she had to do.

The next days were exactly the same, you tried to fix whatever you and Natasha had while she destroyed all your attempts. You cooked for her? She threw it away in front of your eyes. You bought her something? She gave it away. You entered a room? She left. You tried to talk to Clint? She wouldn’t let you. You tried to talk to her? She’d say something rude. You could deal with the being rude but what really broke you was the ignoring and neglecting you, it was as if you hadn’t spend three years together.

The whole team could see that it broke you, Hill and fury too. It got to the point where you were sleeping at either Maria’s or Wanda’s, too scared of Natasha’s anger to sleep next to her. Everybody tried to keep Clint out of it as he still wasn’t as fit as he was supposed to be but after 12 days of this they just couldn’t anymore so Steve decided to talk to him and explain the situation.

“She’s been ignoring her for 12 days because I got hurt?” Steve nodded at him, his lips pressed into a thin line. “But she tried to save me, I just refused to let her. Didn’t she say that?” Clint asked and Steve sighed explaining that you tried to but Natasha didn’t leave you a chance.

That was the same day that fury informed you if your mission. You, Yelena and Natasha, and while you normally loved missions like that this one was a complete horror. “Fury, please. Send anybody else” you begged him but he refused, nobody had the skill set you three had. It got even worse when he explained that you and Yelena had to go inside while Natasha stayed in the Clint jet.

The ride to the location was terrible, Yelena was on a vacation with Kate and didn’t know what happened which was why she was very confused why Nat didn’t talk to you. You sat at the far end of the jet with your headphones on, painkillers in your hand for when you were going down. Natasha flying the jet, having a light conversation with her sister unless she asked about you.

“What happened?” She asked as she saw your eyes closed and head leaning against the wall. It was weird to see you like this, normally you were upfront, singing with them and laughing.

“She nearly killed Clint, she’s… just forget it. We are there in 2, wake her up” with that Yelena made her way towards you, carefully shaking your shoulder.

“2 minutes then we arrive” you nodded and got everything, already putting your parachute on your bag and getting a water for the painkillers.

“Alright we are here. Remember, get inside unnoticed, there shouldn’t be anyone really, get the hardware and then outside again. Is that clear?” You and Yelena nodded as you opened the bottle.

“Don’t kill my sister” was the last thing Nat said to you before turning to her sister. You were quick to take the painkillers and put the bottle away, only Yelena noticing it. You already knew that the fall was going to hurt your stomach.

When Yelena gave you the go the two of you jumped, carefully landing a couple of feet away from the facility. “What did you swallow before we jumped?” She asked forgetting to switch to a channel where the redhead couldn’t listen. You closed your eyes with a sigh before shaking your head at her and pointing towards the jet making her mouth a sorry as you walked towards the building.

“What?! What did you swallow y/l/n?!” Natasha kept on nagging until you finally snapped.

“I took some painkillers alright?!” After that you just tuned her out, she was distracting you and that was the last thing you needed. “You keep watching, I get the hardware alright?” You asked Yelena who stood at the door and gave you a nod as you started. “Nearly done” you mumbled after a minute, wanting to leave as soon as possible.

Suddenly there was an explosion in the room next door making you jump. You quickly got everything you needed before pulling Yelena towards the exit. Your way was suddenly interrupted by an agent pointing a gun at you. “Natasha, we are being ambushed” Yelena said into her intercom while you tried to figure out a way out. You quickly shot the agent before pushing Yelena into a room on your left side.

“Get into the vents” you told her, already getting rid of the covering. “You will follow that vent until you get to the roof. We will meet up there alright? The moment Nat is there you get onto that damn jet” you helped her up, while she protested of course. “See ya” you told her as you pushed the cover back up and exited the room, Yelena seeing how you were immediately circled by agents. In the minute she watched she saw you nearly getting shot two times and some blood forming on your lower abdomen.

She stood on the roof for five minutes before Natasha arrived but she refused to go up, she needed to see you alive. “Yelena Belova! Get up here right now” her sister screamed into the intercom but she refused.

“Not until she’s here, she was bleeding” the blonde said shortly before the door to the roof opened, a bloody you exiting.

“What the… Belova, get up there right now” you screamed over the distance but she shook her head.

“No! You’ll need help up, so come on” she was right, you could barely move, your hands were pressing against your lower abdomen as your stitches ripped open and getting up that ladder was going to be a fight but you couldn’t care less right now.

Suddenly you became suspicious, it was too empty and quiet. So you looked around, focusing on every detail until you saw it; two snipers, their guns showing your and Yelenas way. “Fuck, move Yelena” you screamed but she was too focused on you to notice so you took of. You pushed her out of the way and made her stumble, she held onto the ladder giving you the opportunity to completely save her. So before the bullets his you you called out to the redhead. “Pull up Natasha”

And she did with Yelena holding onto the ladder. The blonde could see the two bullets penetrating you, you falling to the ground and suddenly agents storming on to the roof. There was a puddle of blood forming around you. “I hope you’re no longer angry at me Natasha. I saved your sister” you weakly mumbled into the intercom before it went silent.

“What are we gonna do Nat?” Yelena panicked as she climbed up the ladder. Her sister immediately standing up and checking her over.

“Are you alright?! Do you have any wounds?” She asked her, tears pooling in her eyes.

“No, the moment it got dangerous y/n pushed me into a vent and made me go to safety. Fuck, I shouldn’t have let her do that. We gotta get her Natasha” the redhead shook her head, the tears now streaming down her face.

“It’s my fault. Not yours. I’ll figure something out” she mumbled as she kept checking Yelena for injuries.

“No, you’re gonna come back here and we will figure something out together Agents” Fury’s voice sounded over the coms making Yelena flinch for a second.

“No, we can’t leave her here” yelenas protest was immediately shut down by her sister and fury. There was nothing she could do for you at the moment.

“What happened?” She suddenly asked after a longer while of silence, turning towards Natasha.

“What?”

“You heard me. What happened during my vacation? You ignore your own girlfriend, you neglect her, you leave her to die. So I’m asking you again, what happened?”

“She nearly killed Barton”

“What?! I saw him today, he was hurt but fine Natasha. What are you talking about?”

“They were on a mission and she came back slightly hurt while he nearly died in the OR, because she couldn’t protect him. He has family Yelena” Natasha told her, a harsh glare on her face.

“So you are leaving her to die because she couldn’t protect a grown man who is doing that job longer than she does?! Unbelievable” we’re Yelenas last words before they touched ground, she was immediately of the jet.

“Romanoff. Clint needs you in the hospital wing” Steve said, making the redhead run. She nearly crashed into dozen of people, ignored everyone who tried to talk to her and finally crashed through the door.

“Finally. Took you long enough” Clint said as he sat on a chair in his hospital room, book discarded on to the table.

“What the hell?! You are fine. I thought you were dying” she said accusingly, plopping down on the chair in front of him, her breath slightly heaving.

“No, but I’m gonna be the reason you’re dying soon if you don’t get your shit together” he was dead serious making Natasha furrow her brows when she looked at him.

“What do you mean with that?” Her tone was slightly shocked.

“I mean that you have been ignoring your girlfriend for like what? 2 weeks? Because I got hurt? How stupid can you be? It wasn’t her fault Nat, she did what she could but I didn’t let her. So you’re gonna get your ass up and into your room and you’re gonna apologize to that girl until she’s not mad at you anymore. Because god forbid you two break up, my kids really like her” he finished his monologue and just stared at her. “Oh no, what are you not telling me?” He asked once he realized that something was wrong.

“We lost y/n, her and Yelena were ambushed. She did everything she could to get Yelena out unharmed, she was shot and we had to leave her” now that the adrenaline was going down she realized what just happened. Or rather realized what has been happening over the last two weeks.

“Romanoff. Burton. We need a plan to rescue y/l/n” Tony said as he and the team entered. “We have only hours until we loose the last trade of her” he added as they sat down around the table.

“I’m sorry, are you speaking about y/n y/l/n, the one who came here with a lower abdomen wound?” The doctor who has been in Clint’s room spoke up making everybody turn to him. Maria nodding her head.

“She wasn’t allowed to go on a mission, her wound hasn’t even nearly healed. The substance she came into contact with at the mission slowed her healing process immensely” he explained before going away, leaving the team to do their stuff.

“Why didn’t you know that Natasha?” Bucky asked, overwhelmed with the situation.

“Because she decided to ignore y/n because of a mistake that wasn’t even really hers” Wanda said, glaring at the redhead. Suddenly a whole argument started to develop, until Bucky, Yelena, Wanda and Maria just stood up.

“Where are you three going?” Sam asked breaking the argument.

“We are gonna go find y/n” one of them answered.

“Wait, I’m coming along” Natasha said as she also jumped up. Her last words to you couldn’t be “don’t kill my sister”. She was met with a scoff from one of the girls but still decided to follow. The rest stayed and tried to work out a plan.

Two hours later the five arrived at the station, something in these two hours happened to Nat. They didn’t know what it was but it was definitely needed for the mission, she was laser focused and a war machine. Nobody hit as many targets as she did, she was cruel as if she really cared about you again.

“We will go different ways, hoping that we can find her faster. Yelena, wanda you stay down here, Bucky Natasha and I will go through the rooms upstairs. Say something the moment you got her, we wanna get out of here as fast as we can” the brunette commanded before walking her team up the stairs.

“Bucky, left side. Natasha, around the corner. I will take the right side” and they did, the redhead disappeared behind a corner. Kicking down each door, praying that you’re behind it, sitting on a chair with a small smile, just waiting for them to save you. But she was so so wrong when she heard Bucky gasp though the intercoms.

“I got here, third room left side” he said alerting you all. In a matter of seconds Natasha sprinted past him to kneel next to your lifeless body. She fell to her knees, her hand hovering over you unsure of touching you.

Yelena came sprinting inside too, falling to your other side. Her hands immediately went to check your pulse, “there’s none” she mumbled making everybody stop in their tracks. Suddenly Natasha’s body rocked in sobs, Bucky stared straight ahead, Yelena let her tears fall silently, Wanda tried to feel a pulse herself while Maria left the room to cry.

After a minute she came back inside. “Bucky, can you pick her up and carry her to the jet? We can’t leave her here, she deserves a real funeral” the brunet said.

“I’ll do it” the redhead mumbled and picked you up, she had already wrapped the jacket she took with her around your abdomen. Even if you were already dead. She pressed you tightly to herself, breathing in your scent what would be the last time. She couldn’t believe it, her last words to you were “don’t kill my sister” and that was the reason why you died.

Everybody sat in the jet, there was an absolute silence as Yelena flew them all back down. Your corpse laying on the bed not far. “She can’t be dead, I can still feel her. She just can’t be” Wanda mumbled as she looked at your body, her tears streaming down her face.

The whole compound was devastated when the jet landed, you were brought into the hospital wing again where they classified you as dead. “I’m sorry but there is nothing I can do for her. She’s dead” the doctor told the team after checking you and closing your abdomen wound. “If you want to we can already order a coffin and get somebody to plan the funeral” he added with a ‘comforting’ smile.

“No, she can’t be dead. On the jet Wanda said that she can still feel her so that means that she can’t be dead” Natasha cried out as she watched your bloody body. “She can’t be. This can’t be the last thing she heard from me and the last thing she remembered from me. She can’t be dead” it broke all their hearts to watch her cry like that, they had never seen her cry. Some tears? Yeah but full on crying? Never.

Clint and Steve tried to calm her down but she only pushed them away, her body hunched over yours. “Let’s give her some times. She needs more time to say goodbye to her than we do” Tony said and gathered everyone out of the room, except the redhead.

“I’m so sorry love. I was so terrified of having to tell Laura that Clint died that I just, I fucked up and I didn’t realize. You can’t believe how much I hate myself and I hate myself even more when I think about the fact that I can never tell you how much I love you and how sorry I am” she whispered as she cleaned your arms with a sponge. “Even though I know that you’d never forgive me, I really wish you were here right now. Screaming at me for being an idiot” Tony stood at the door and watched her talk to you.

“I can’t believe I didn’t appreciate the last time I saw your eyes” she cried into your shoulder, one arm carefully wrapped around your stomach as if she could hurt you. Tony decided to leave the two of you a bit longer, even though she treated you like shit he couldn’t imagine how much it must hurt her to never be able to fix it.

“We should give her an hour more” he said as he came back to the others, everybody was looking for comfort in each other. Even Fury coming back from wherever he was to say his last goodbye to you. Wanda struggled the most though, something was just not right.

“If she’s dead, why can I still feel her?” She cried out, everybody looking at the ground. Not knowing how to answer her.

“Let’s go, we have to say our goodbyes” Fury said and stood up to lead the group to your hospital room. By now Natasha fell asleep in the position, making even Fury’s eyes water.

“Wait, Natasha” Tony called out, carefully waking the redhead up. “Did you wrap her arm around you?” He asked when he noticed your position changed. She shook her head not realizing what he meant. “Get up Nat, Bruce give me the stethoscope” the spy jumped up and Bruce quickly gave him the stethoscope. “Wait- I can hear something” he told them once he pushed it to your chest.

“Y/n?” Natasha called out as she pushed past Bruce back to your side. “Her hands are warmer” she realized as she grabbed your hand again.

“Let me try something” Wanda mumbled, her hand glowing red in front of your forehead. “I can feel her stronger now, she’s dreaming” a small content smile build on Wanda’s face, the first one since you went on that mission.

With small help from Wanda you woke up, your eyes fluttering as your face was filled with color and your heartbeat strengthened. “Yelena?” Was the first thing you got out shocking everybody. They were guessing that you’d call for Nat or Maria since she’s your best friend but Yelena? Sure, you were friends but still.

“Yeah?” She asked as she pushed her way through to you, pushing past sobbing Maria and Natasha. Her hand carefully found yours as your eyes looked into hers.

“You alright right?” You asked a small smile on your lips as you saw her smile and shake her head.

“Yes, I am. Thanks to you” both of you chuckled before Maria and Wanda threw themselves at you, hugging you closely just to hear you breath and feel your heartbeat.

“What happened?” Steve asked into the room, the question was directed towards you but also towards Tony. You were dead, no questions asked.

“They gave me a shot, muttering something about me dying slowly and painfully. It definitely was both of that, except for the fact that I didn’t really die I guess” you explained, still confused about… well everything.

“I’ll send the scans and blood work to my lab. Bruce, let’s go” Tony said before hugging you quickly. He hoped to figure out what happened to you.

Tony seemed to have set an example as everybody else hugged you before ‘giving you some time’ which was meant to be a code for ‘talk to Romanoff’. She kept back while everyone was there, silently crying in the corner of the room. She didn’t know what to say to you, there was nothing she could say that would make her behavior right. Never.

Once everybody was out you started to slightly shake and spoke up. “It hurts Nat, it hurts so bad” you mumbled as you tried to hug yourself to give some comfort.

“I’m sorry, give me a sec I’ll hook you up on an IV and some painkiller” Natasha told you and quickly worked around you, carefully inserting the needle into your arm. “There, it should get better now” she said, one hand instinctively coming to your cheek.

“We should probably talk about what happened huh?” You said, your body still shaking but the pain going down. Nat nodded timidly unsure of what to say and where to start.

“I- I am so so so sorry for what I said, it was completely out of line. And don’t even let me get started about my behavior. I was so scared of having to tell Laura that Clint died that I just snapped, which was stupid because everything I said was so so wrong. Fury, Nick Fury, leader of S.H.I.E.L.D came here today because you died, you know what kind of honor that is? There are so so many people who would have missed you if you were dead. Including me, I deserved to lay in that OR dying for what I said, not you. You had done everything you could” she told you, her eyes red from the constant crying and her voice small and unsteady, which was new for her.

“You hurt me so bad that I thought I deserved to die Natasha” was the only thing you said, you could see her flinch at the usage of her name. You almost felt sorry but in the end was she the one who has started it.

“I know, and I hate myself for it. And I would get If you wouldn’t wanna give me a second chance but if you, by any means, feel like giving me the opportunity to fix what I destroyed I’d happily take it and I wouldn’t disappoint you”

You thought for a moment but the fact that you were here, still alive after you were dead makes you believe that maybe this was your guys second chance. “I’m not saying that it’s okay, because it definitely isn’t but I appreciate that you apologized and you have the opportunity to make it right” you told her, proud of yourself for standing up for yourself and not just backing down.

“Thank you” she mumbled over and over again as she pressed kisses all over your faces causing a giggle to erupt from you.

Who knows if Natasha can really completely fix what she broke but she’d try for the rest of her life if that’s what it took for you to forgive her.

A/n: not the biggest fan of this but I hope you like it anon :)

[leclarifies]

hi late night thoughts but

max would def be the type of boyfriend to touch, LIKE A LOT, like it doesn't even need to be sexual or for long periods of time. just a simple touch, maybe it's tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear, or gently touching your waist when he needs to move past you, before landing a sneaky kiss in there for good measure.

or like i've had this scenario in my head for a good week now, but you're working from home, just clicking away at your laptop when he comes home, he clearly looks exhausted from whatever flight he's been on, and when he comes home and looks at you, the exhaustion disappear from his face bc look! it's his favorite person! he's finally home!!!!

he drops all of his thing and just comes to cuddle next to your side, not even caring that you have to do work bc he's now with his favorite person ever and that's all he cares about. the longer you continue to work, the sleepier he gets, he can't tell if it's from the flight and the jet lag or because being in your presence just makes him calmer and sleepier. the soft tapping of your nails against the keyboard makes it even more relaxing, just some white noise to tune all of his thoughts about the next race and what he should do tomorrow because he had a redline stream to take part in.

ur just his favorite person once you become his girlfriend!! like he's so soft and mushy about you too, even though he's a relatively private person, and he refuses to talk about you in public bc he's scared that you're going to get affected by what they say, his close friends listens to how much he yaps about you, sometimes they roll their eyes playfully bc there max goes again talking about his girlfriend!!!!! cz once he's in love, he's IN LOVE.

AH I CANT MY DELUSIONAL ASS CAN'T TAKE THESE LATE NIGHT THOUGHTS!!!!!

[hookhausenschips]

Crowning Moments: The Power of the Perfect Style

Summary: Part Two of Men Who Know Too Much

Drivers: Lando Norris, Franco Colapinto, Carlos Sainz, George Russell, Charles Leclerc, Max Verstappen, & Oscar Piastri

Taglists

• you DO NOT have my permission to copy my work, upload as your own, translate, or repost on any other website •

Lando Norris – Fulani Braids with 1B Ombré Tips (British Grand Prix)

Y/N stood in front of the mirror in her hotel room, her freshly done Fulani braids gleaming under the overhead light. The golden cuffs and beads nestled perfectly along the intricate cornrows at the front of her scalp, transitioning into waist-length 1B ombré braids that darkened from brown to jet black. She tilted her head, inspecting every angle.

“I can’t believe you nailed this, Norris,” she said as Lando leaned casually against the doorway, smirking.

“Told you I’ve got an eye for these things,” he replied. “Now hurry up. The fans are going to riot if we’re late.”

The buzz outside Silverstone was palpable as the couple arrived at the paddock. The British Grand Prix always drew an enormous crowd, and the energy in the air was electric. Y/N walked beside Lando, her braids bouncing lightly with each step. Fans were pressed against the barriers, shouting his name—and hers.

“Y/N! Your hair looks amazing!”

“The ombré is so sleek!”

“You’re stunning!”

Y/N smiled, her cheeks warming as she waved at the fans. She wasn’t used to the spotlight being so focused on her, but the outpouring of love made her feel like she was walking a runway.

“See what I mean?” Lando whispered, leaning close as they headed toward the McLaren hospitality suite. “They love it. Told you to trust me.”

“I’m not saying you were right,” she teased, nudging him playfully, “but you might be onto something.”

As they stepped into the garage, the team greeted them enthusiastically.

“Y/N, those braids are unreal!” one engineer said, gesturing toward her hair.

“Thanks,” she replied, flicking one braid over her shoulder dramatically. “I had a little help.”

Lando, standing smugly beside her, interjected, “A little help? Try a lot of genius.”

Later, during the race, the cameras caught her sitting in the McLaren garage, her braids glowing under the sunlight streaming into the pit lane. Social media exploded with photos of her look, fans commenting on how effortlessly she stole the show.

When Lando returned post-race, sweaty but grinning after securing P2, he winked at her. “Told you, you’re the real star of the day.”

Y/N rolled her eyes but couldn’t help smiling. “I hate to admit it, Norris, but… maybe you were right. Just this once.”

Franco Colapinto – Pink and Black Butterfly Locs (Spanish Grand Prix, F2)

The vibrant pink tips of Y/N’s butterfly locs shone brightly under the blazing Spanish sun as she adjusted her sunglasses. The locs, a bold mix of black and hot pink, were an adventurous choice, but Franco had insisted. And now, as she strolled beside him through the Circuit de Barcelona-Catalunya paddock, she couldn’t help but feel like she belonged in a music video.

“Te dije que ibas a ser la estrella del día,” Franco said, grinning as his hand brushed against hers.

“You might be right this time,” she admitted, glancing around at the fans who were already pointing and whispering.

The moment they reached the paddock entrance, the reaction was instantaneous. Fans gasped and clapped, shouting compliments in both English and Spanish.

“¡Guapa!”

“Y/N, the pink is everything!”

“You look like a model!”

Y/N laughed, waving at the crowd. “They’re really hyping me up today, huh?”

“Por supuesto,” Franco said, his grin widening. “But who wouldn’t? Mira—everyone is staring at you, not me.”

As they passed a group of journalists, the cameras swiveled toward her. A reporter stepped forward.

“Y/N, we have to ask—what inspired this bold new hairstyle?”

Y/N smiled coyly, glancing at Franco. “Let’s just say I’ve got someone in my corner who has a good eye for these things.”

The two slipped away to the garage, where Franco’s team members were equally impressed. “That hair is insane, Y/N,” one of them said, giving her a thumbs-up.

Franco leaned closer, whispering, “Told you. You’re the reason half the crowd is here today.”

“Alright, alright,” she replied, laughing. “But if I find out there’s some girl who taught you about butterfly locs, it’s on sight.”

“Confía en mí, mi amor,” Franco said, placing a hand over his heart. “Todo esto fue mi idea.”

She smirked. “You’re lucky it worked out.”

Carlos Sainz – T1B/Red Ombré Medium Knotless Braids (Monaco Grand Prix)

Monaco’s glamour was unmatched, and Y/N felt like she fit right in with her medium knotless braids. The T1B roots seamlessly transitioned into a fiery red, mirroring Ferrari’s iconic color. Standing beside Carlos in the paddock, she adjusted the braids that framed her face, the red tips catching the sunlight like flames.

“¿Lo ves?” Carlos said, gesturing toward her hair as they walked toward the Ferrari garage. “I told you the red would be perfect. Matches the car, matches you.”

“You just like that I look like a walking Ferrari ad,” she teased, nudging him with her elbow.

“Maybe,” he admitted with a grin. “But you look stunning. Everyone’s staring.”

And they were. Fans lining the Monaco paddock snapped photos and shouted her name.

“Y/N! You’re glowing!”

“The braids are gorgeous!”

“You’re the Ferrari queen!”

Y/N waved, her confidence surging as Carlos pulled her closer. Inside the Ferrari hospitality suite, the compliments kept coming.

“That red ombré is perfection,” one team member said.

“Thanks,” Y/N replied, giving Carlos a sidelong glance. “Though I’ll admit, it wasn’t entirely my idea.”

“Entirely?” Carlos repeated, feigning offense. “It was all me, cariño. You just brought it to life.”

As the race day unfolded, the cameras frequently panned to Y/N, seated in the Ferrari garage. Social media buzzed with praise for her look, fans calling her the unofficial Ferrari ambassador.

When Carlos returned to the garage post-race, he leaned down, brushing a finger against one of her braids. “Told you. You’re the highlight of Monaco.”

Y/N smirked. “Maybe you’re better at this than I thought.”

George Russell – Deep Brown Alicia Keys-Inspired Braids (Singapore Grand Prix)

The humid Singapore night couldn’t dampen Y/N’s shine as she stepped into the Marina Bay paddock. Her deep brown braids, inspired by Alicia Keys, were styled to perfection. Thin braids flowed down her back, each strand adorned with golden beads and shells that jingled softly with her movements. The style was elegant and classic, a perfect match for the sophisticated night race.

George walked beside her, his tailored white shirt rolled up at the sleeves, exuding a quiet confidence. He glanced at her, his expression softening as he admired the way her braids glinted under the track lights.

“You look breathtaking,” he said, his voice barely above a murmur.

Y/N arched a brow, smirking. “You sound surprised, Russell.”

“Not surprised,” he corrected quickly, his lips twitching into a smile. “Just… impressed. Every time, you manage to outdo yourself.”

“Maybe it’s the hair,” she teased, running a hand along the length of her braids. “But don’t let it go to your head, Mr. Stylist. You’re still not picking my next look.”

“After this reaction, I might have to,” he said, gesturing toward the fans.

The crowd was buzzing as the couple approached.

“Y/N! Your hair is amazing!”

“George, she’s stunning—you’re a lucky man!”

“The beads are such a vibe!”

Y/N couldn’t help but laugh, waving at the fans. She could feel their eyes on her, their admiration boosting her confidence.

“See what I mean?” George whispered, leaning in slightly. “You’re the real showstopper tonight.”

Inside the Mercedes garage, the team quickly chimed in with their own compliments.

“Y/N, those braids are flawless. Did George have anything to do with this?” one engineer asked, only half-joking.

“Not officially,” she said with a sly grin. “But he did suggest the style.”

George gave her a knowing look. “See? I have good taste.”

Later, as she sat in the garage, her braids gleaming under the pit lane lights, cameras frequently panned to her. Social media lit up, with fans dubbing her the queen of the night race.

“You’re trending again,” George said after the race, handing her his phone to show her the comments.

Y/N smiled, leaning her head against his shoulder. “Guess I’ll let you pick my hair again someday… maybe.”

Charles Leclerc – T4/27 Pop Smoke Braids (Italian Grand Prix)

The roar of Tifosi filled the air at Monza as Y/N stepped out of the car. Her Pop Smoke braids were a work of art, the chunky cornrows flowing into a mesmerizing blend of T4 (dark brown) and 27 (honey blonde). The warm tones highlighted her features, and the intricate design gave her an effortlessly regal look.

Charles opened the car door for her, smiling as he offered his hand. “You’re going to steal the spotlight today, chérie. Not even I can compete with this.”

She chuckled, smoothing her braids down. “Please, Leclerc. The Tifosi only have eyes for you.”

As they made their way into the paddock, the crowd erupted. Fans waved Ferrari flags and chanted Charles’ name, but a significant portion of them were calling out to Y/N as well.

“Y/N! Those braids are incredible!”

“The honey blonde is perfect!”

“You’re the real Ferrari princess!”

Y/N gave Charles a look, a playful smirk tugging at her lips. “You hearing this? I might just be more popular than you today.”

Charles laughed, his cheeks flushing slightly. “It’s only because you let me pick the style.”

Inside the Ferrari hospitality suite, the compliments kept pouring in.

“Y/N, the braids are stunning!” one staff member said, her eyes wide with admiration.

“Merci,” Y/N replied, throwing Charles a pointed look. “Though apparently, this one’s taking all the credit.”

“And I deserve it,” Charles chimed in, his tone light but proud. “You wouldn’t have done it without me.”

During the race, the cameras frequently panned to Y/N, sitting in the Ferrari garage with her braids catching the sunlight. Social media exploded with praise for her look, fans calling her the “real Ferrari MVP.”

After the race, Charles approached her with a wide grin. “Admit it, I was right.”

“Fine,” she said, rolling her eyes but smiling. “You were right. But don’t let it go to your head, Leclerc.”

Max Verstappen – T1B/Light Blue Lemonade Braids (Dutch Grand Prix)

At Zandvoort, the vibrant orange sea of Dutch fans was impossible to ignore, but Y/N’s lemonade braids somehow stood out just as much. The sleek cornrows swept across her scalp in intricate patterns, the ends dyed a bold light blue that popped against her dark skin. The playful yet edgy style perfectly suited the high-energy vibe of the race weekend.

“Je ziet er geweldig uit,” Max said as they walked through the paddock. His Dutch accent made the compliment sound even more sincere.

Y/N glanced at him, smirking. “Translation, Verstappen?”

“You look amazing,” he repeated, his eyes sparkling with pride.

“Thanks, but I’m still suspicious about how you even know what lemonade braids are,” she teased.

“I told you, I did my research,” he said, shrugging. “Doesn’t matter how I know—what matters is that everyone else knows you look perfect.”

As they approached the grandstands, fans immediately began shouting.

“Y/N! Love the blue!”

“Max, she’s outshining you today!”

“She’s got Dutch vibes with a twist!”

Y/N laughed, waving at the crowd. “They really like it,” she admitted, glancing at Max.

“Told you,” he replied smugly.

Inside the Red Bull garage, the team’s reaction was no different. “Y/N, those braids are a masterpiece,” one engineer said.

“They’re Max-approved,” she quipped, earning a laugh from the team.

Throughout the race, the cameras lingered on her, her unique style making her the talk of the paddock. Post-race interviews even included questions about her hair, but Y/N simply smiled and said, “Just something fun for Zandvoort.”

Later, Max pulled her aside. “So? Did I do good?”

She grinned. “You did great. But don’t think this means you’re in charge of my hair from now on.”

“Of course not,” he said, leaning closer. “Unless you’re stressed again.”

Oscar Piastri – Blonde and Auburn Bohemian Box Braids (Australian Grand Prix)

Under the bright Melbourne sun, Y/N felt like she was radiating a light of her own. Her freshly installed bohemian box braids blended shades of 613 blonde and 33 chestnut auburn, creating a striking yet natural gradient that framed her face perfectly. Loose, wavy strands peeked out between the braids, adding an effortless, ethereal touch.

Oscar was already waiting for her in the paddock, hands in his pockets, his boyish grin widening when he saw her.

“You look… incredible,” he said, his voice carrying a quiet awe.

“Yeah?” Y/N asked, turning slightly to give him a full view of the braids cascading down her back.

Oscar nodded, his ears tinged red. “Better than I imagined, honestly. The blonde suits you. And the auburn… it’s perfect.”

“Don’t sound too surprised,” she teased, stepping closer to him. “You’re the one who picked it.”

“Well, I didn’t think it could look this good,” he admitted, his voice dropping to a more serious tone.

The Australian Grand Prix was buzzing with excitement, fans cheering wildly as the couple walked toward the paddock. Y/N noticed several eyes lingering on her, some fans even holding up their phones to snap pictures.

“Y/N! Your hair is stunning!”

“Love the blonde—it’s giving goddess!”

“Oscar, she’s glowing!”

She exchanged a quick glance with Oscar, who seemed as unbothered as ever, though she caught the proud tilt of his smile. “Looks like you’re stealing the show,” he whispered.

As they entered the McLaren garage, the team didn’t hold back their admiration either.

“Y/N, those braids are insane,” one team member said, shaking their head in disbelief.

“Thanks,” she replied, tucking one loose strand behind her ear. “Oscar’s idea, believe it or not.”

“He has good taste,” another engineer quipped, earning a laugh from both of them.

During the race, the cameras couldn’t seem to get enough of her, capturing her seated in the garage with her glowing hair catching the sunlight. Social media exploded, fans praising her look and nicknaming her the “Golden Queen of the Paddock.”

After the race, Oscar returned to the garage, looking a little sheepish but undeniably pleased with his performance.

“Not a bad day,” he said, grabbing a water bottle and leaning against the counter.

“Not bad at all,” Y/N agreed, running her fingers through her braids. “And clearly, you’re not just good at driving. Who knew you had an eye for hair?”

Oscar chuckled, his usual calm demeanor intact. “Well, I figured you deserved something as incredible as you are. And I was right.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, a small smile tugging at her lips. “Don’t let this go to your head, Piastri. But… thank you. I love it.”

“Good,” he replied, his grin softening. “Because you’ve just raised the bar for the entire paddock.”

••••••••••••••••••••••••

F1 Grid Taglist: @esserenorris, @tallrock35, @lightdragonrayne, @evie-119, @donteventry-itdude, @dhanihamidi, @xoscar03, @miarabanana, @decafmickey, @icecoldtires, @evesfile, @mellowluka, @bdreamalot99, @qxeenjen

F1 Taglist: @tallrock35, @yourbane, @hiireadstuff, @really-fucking-tired, @evie-119, @donteventry-itdude, @spookystitchery, @dhanihamidi, @decafmickey, @cmleitora, @d3kstar, @mellowluka, @omgsuperstarg, @qxeenjen

A/N: writing these are so addicting (also I found this while looking up a gif for charles😂😂)

[f0point5]

My (baby flies) like a jet stream

Part 37 of the Max Verstappen x bestfriend!reader social media au

A/N: RB. Is. Back. That’s all I have to say on that. Second, someone come defend Sainz to me in the inbox, I want to like him but every time I try he be talking. Third, all the pics of Seb at RB and with Mick today legit had me thinking “I know what they’re talking about ;)” except I don’t because the au isn’t real lol. Anyway hope you guys enjoy this part <3

Tag list

@somanyfandomsbruh @eugene-emt-roe @reidsworld @lazybot @maxiel-jpg @laneyspaulding19 @elliegrey2803 @ivegotparticulartaste @inthestars-underthesun @jayda12 @gaysontoast @baw-sixteen @stevesworld9 @motorsp0rt @obsessed-fan-alert @lifesuckslife @luciaexcorvus @dumb-fawkin-bitch @lickmeleclerc @goldeng1rl8 @trentwife @mynameisangeloflife @princessria127 @mcmuppet @hiraethrhapsody @toomuchdelusion @lxclerc @lpab @lordperceval-16 @larastark3107 @bangtanxberm @random-readers-world @bladestark @allenajade-ite @ironmaiden1313 @thatgirlthatreadswattpad @buffysummrsx @kachoooow95 @bellalilo @samywhale @satellitelh @leclercdream @jamie2305 @illicitverstappen @vellicora @honethatty12 @sociallyinepludi @aundercover @raizelchrysanderoctavius @bellewintersroe @taylorslovesswifties13 @tyna-19

[lost-in-fandoms]

https://www.tumblr.com/lost-in-fandoms/762168056269144064/thinking-about-streamer-max-who-lowkey-does?source=share

Omg. Omg!!!! Streamer Max my beloved! What does Daniel do when he stumbles onto Max's stream? I'm just imagining him clicking on a random link or something and suddenly bam he's got a face full of this pretty streamer with slutty short shorts!

(Anyway love your work and hope you have a great day!! 🥰)

You are so sweet I hope you have a great day too!!

Some slutty streamer Max to try and have something good to end the day with

Daniel sighs, rolling over towards the bedside table and grabbing his phone, checking the time for what feels like the twentieth time that night already.

4:42 am.

Just twenty minutes after the last time he checked.

He sighs again, sitting up slightly to drink some water, resigned to the fact that he'll probably won't get any sleep tonight either. If he's lucky, he'll get a couple hours when the sun is rising and then sneak a nap in somewhere during the afternoon.

He knows that jet lag is not helping, having landed in Perth from Los Angeles just two days ago, but he's been dealing with this insomnia for way too long to lie to himself any further. Sleep simply isn't coming.

He's tried most things already tonight, from the relaxing herbal tea his mom had recommended, to the white noise machine, to the podcasts, to the meditation. Nothing has worked.

He grabs his phone again, going through some of his messages and emails before clicking on the twitch app.

It's something new he's been trying the past couple of weeks, doesn't even remember who recommended it to him, and so far it hasn't worked, but at this point into the night he's willing to do anything. Whoever it was who first told him about it had been speaking about ASMR streams and music channels, but Daniel has been mostly browsing around, not really finding anything that catches his eye.

Tonight, he moves past the few streams he has followed already, scrolling through the live channels without looking for anything in particular, until something catches his eyes.

At first glance the stream doesn't look like anything special, even if the game itself looks cute, just a guy in a dimly lit room in a corner of the screen, mouth moving to say words Daniel can't hear yet, but.

The guy is sitting on a gaming chair, leaning back slightly in a way that Daniel doubts is fully comfortable, legs splayed, his short shorts bunched up to leave milky skin on display. He's using both hands to play, but just as Daniel is watching, slightly transfixed, he laughs, probably at something in chat, and brings one hand away to lightly scratch at his neck and then down to his leg, pulling it more to the side, fingers grazing on his crotch.

Daniel swallows.

He taps on the screen, opening the stream without really thinking about it, finally letting the guy's voice play through the speakers.

"...just for 40 more minutes. No, you cannot bribe me for one hour, Kiks, not even if you use the cute emote. I have work."

He has an accent, a lisp that comes out when he says Kiks, bright blue eyes and a lovely smile. And a hand that is still on his dick.

Daniel's eyes fall on the name of the stream, Farming some slimes, which tells him nothing, and the name of the game, Slime Rancher 2, which tells him that at least he's not in some sort of secret porn category, before going back to the camera square.

The guy is now playing again, hands just barely in view from where they're wrapped around the controller, and Daniel takes a breath, trying to gather his bearings after feeling like he's just been hit over the head with an hammer.

The chat is scrolling by slowly, his 236 viewers obviously not all interested in talking, so Daniel has no problem catching the last few messages. It's mostly people complaining about the guy leaving early, the person he was talking to earlier, KicksforKiks24, offering to gift some subs if he stays longer, and Daniel wonders if he is the only one noticing the absolutely sinful thighs on display here.

Nightnectior: What if I ask really nicely Max?

The new message pops up in chat, and Daniel watches as the streamer, Max apparently, laughs again, shaking his head.

"No, Night, I told you, I have things to do early in the morning."

Okay, maybe Daniel is the weird one here. Maybe he is the only one thinking about Max's legs and reading his posture wrong. Maybe he is the only perv in this chat, and everyone else is absolutely normal.

Severson: would love to see you do /things/ in the morning

Daniel chokes on his spit.

He's expecting Max to ignore it, or to delete the message, or to have any kind of reasonable reaction, but Max.

Max grins.

He blinks slowly, shifting on the chair almost casually, bringing one foot up to rest on the seat, shorts bunching up so much Daniel can see a hint of pubes, the outline of his balls and dick now fully visible, and then sliding a hand down his thigh to rest on his lower belly, fingers grazing his crotch again.

"Would you?" he asks, voice low.

Daniel has forgotten what Max's asking about. He's forgotten about anything that isn't the desire of sinking his teeth in the meat of his thigh, to have them wrapped around his head, and the knowledge that his dick is half hard already.

"I don't think that's how it works," Max says, in response to a message Daniel doesn't even care to look at right now. He's barely aware of the chat going faster now, more messages popping up in a rapid succession.

"Oh look at all of you, coming out to play."

Max's hand slides lower, now fully on his dick, as he giggles, a sliver of his stomach exposed too. Daniel's heart is beating in his ears. He doesn't know what's happening.

There's a new sound on the stream, something that startles Daniel out of his daze enough to realise someone has just donated €50 just to call Max a pretty boy.

Daniel wonders how hard it is to figure out how donations work. How much he can donate without his bank blocking his account. How much it would take for Max to do something.

He swallows, feeling slightly insane.

Max's fingers squeeze once.

Daniel's breath stutters in his chest, his hands twitching, wanting to touch himself too but so transfixed he doesn't dare moving.

And then Max shifts, grabbing the controller again and sitting up a bit, shirt falling back into place. Even if the outline of his dick is still clearly visible, something in the spell breaks, letting Daniel breathe again.

He can still feel his heart rabbiting in his chest, his mouth dry. His dick is hard under the sheets.

With a trembling finger, Daniel presses follow.

[judysxnd]

Dating Lando Norris includes

• playing video games a lot: during the season, on weekends, to chill during the evening, also during the week a bit too, it doesn’t matter if you’re away or with him

• watching him play when you’re too tired: he also plays a lot with Max, Bankai, Matt and others. It’s not your kind of games but you love watching him play. If he’s streaming, you’re generally in his bed watching from your computer, but if he’s not, you’re sitting next to him

• playing board games too: those are goods too! Cards, monopoly, uno or whatever. It keeps the both of you away from the phone, computer and all, while still having fun. It feels good sometimes

• late night drives/ talks: you both have a tendency to sleep late, being night owls, and sometimes you don’t want to go out, but also don’t want to stay in, so the perfect compromise is to go for a late night drive. Music in the background, you usually stop to a drive through to get some food, and then you park somewhere, eating, talking, joking, whatever. It also happens when none of you are tired, you’re seeking for sleep, and you noticed that it was tiring the both of you. But either way, it’s your favorite thing, sharing some quality time together

• parties: Lando is a huge partier, not so much for you, but you grew to like them too. You were usually uncomfortable, not feeling safe, but Lando changed that. He showed a way of partying that was different than what you knew and you liked it. So you joined him every time he went out. You also love dancing with him, because none of you exes did that, and it made you fall in love with him even more

• travelling a lot (not only for the races): obviously you travel a lot for the races. You tried to join him and see him every time you could. But Lando is also a good traveller on his personal time, and you are too! So it was natural to go on vacation with him once the season was over

• golf dates (more like golf competitions): you got introduced to golf when you were a teenager, and you liked it! But as you grew up, you never really kept going. But it was until you met Lando. He loves golf, and loves competing against anyone. He tries to practice a bit to beat Carlos, but since you beat him on the first time you went golfing with him, now he has another rival. So you go a lot on golf dates, mini-golf or real golf, anything that is golf is enough. Whoever wins, doesn’t pay for the date

• lots of dates in general: he started to know the cities he is in thanks to the races, so, if you travel with him, he knows where to take you out): Lando loves to take you out. He wants to spoil you, to show you the beautiful places he knows. It’s also an excuse for the both of you to dress fancy, and he loves to see you get even more prettier each time. Also, after travelling a lot to the same cities for F1, he started to know many places where to take you out, so if you’re with him, you will find yourself on a date in Mexico, in Abu Dhabi, in Las Vegas, etc.

• him making you try new things you’ve never done before: you always wanted to do extreme things but never got the courage to do them. Then Lando arrived, and you’ve seen him do all the things you wanted to do just like that. So you did. For example, karting! You did it when you were a kid, but you don’t remember it so it was like a first time for you. You’ve never went jet skiing, so it was normal to do it when you were in Abu Dhabi during the last race of the season. You also flew in an helicopter with him, you tried paddle for the first time, just many things like that

• lots of physical touch: it’s his love language, more than you. Wherever you are, you have to touch. If you are at a restaurant, he will either have his hand on your thigh or your legs will be touching. Holding hands when you walk, random hugs, kisses, when one of you is driving, the hand on the thigh is mandatory. You are always near each other. One of you is never far from the other

• rituals when you’re away from each other: unfortunately you cannot always be with him for the races, or even off the season. You have your own life too and cannot stop it just for him. So when you’re away, you have settled little rituals. Like sending each other’s good night and good morning texts, also sending each other your outfits for the day. You also try to call each other at least once a day, but it’s not always possible with the time difference. You also text throughout the entire day, you may not be able to call, but you can text, even if you read it later

• sometimes you’re both tired but don’t want to go to bed: yeah like I said previously, you both have a tendency to have bad sleeping schedules, so you usually sleep late. Sometimes you’re tired, but not enough to actually sleep, but, also too much to actually do something, like playing or something. So, that’s usually the nights where you catch up on your tv shows and movies, going on Netflix or whatever and binge watch what you missed (you usually both fall asleep an hour or two after)

• trying to work out with him: Lando has to work out for F1, a lot. He usually trains a lot off season because he doesn’t have time in between races, so it takes a lot of his time, which is time away from you. As an excuse to spend more time with him, and actually get in shape a little too, you tried to follow a bit of his work out routine. But.. it’s a lot, it’s hard and it hurts so much that you didn’t go far. It makes him laugh to see you try, still appreciating the efforts. You do work out with him sometimes, but not a lot and not the same exercices as him

• ordering food at the most random time of the day: neither of you are great cooks. You burnt too much stuff to even call yourselves cooks. So you order a lot. But you also order at random moments, because you do not always eat at like twelve for lunch or 7/8pm for dinner. It’s more like 1/2pm for lunch (you even did a 3pm one time), and more like 9/10pm for dinner (it happened more than once to order at 11pm or even midnight). It depends if you go out at night, because if you do, you’ll both crave something in the middle of the night. So yeah you order at the most random times

• stealing his hoodies: this one is very obvious. You love his hoodies. They smell like him, they are beautiful, they are large just enough, they are comfy, etc. The list is long of excuses to still his hoodies. He doesn’t mind, he actually loves it, you’re always so cute in his clothes. Okay sometimes he might not like it because he actually wants to wear the hoodie you just stole, but it’s very rare

• pictures, you take so many pictures of each other, together: you are both amateur photographers. You both have your own cameras, so it is quite obvious that you both have your own .jpg accounts. Lando is quite behind posting his pics, oh but you’re not (the fans thank you for it). Therefore you take lots of pictures. You love taking the landscapes, sunsets, but what you love the most is Lando. You take a lot of candid photos of him as well as some pics of the two of you together. He does take lots of pictures of you too but he keeps them to himself (you don’t even know about most of them)

• shopping together: you both have money, you both love buying stuff for yourselves and each other, so yeah, you find yourselves shopping together. Online or not, you shop. Clothes, jewelry, food, whatever can be bought. The perks of having money

• him teaching you how to drive a F1 car: the more you went to the races, the more you started to understand it. You knew you could never actually drive a F1, but oh boy how bad you wanted to try. You got lucky enough to sit in Lando’s car, making him drool over it (he took so many pics), but you wanted to try and drive. So he made you try his simulator. And after crashing thousands of times, and laughing at you, he decided to teach you. So now you both spend hours on it, Lando sitting next to you, explaining you every details, strategies. He loves it so much, seeing you taking interest in what he does

• exchanging music: it’s both your love language. You love music so much, it makes you feel so many things, letting out your emotions that you both cannot live without it. So, quickly after you started dating, you started to exchange your music. That’s how you both noticed that you have the same tastes, and usually listen to the same musics. Every time you both think about it, your heart flutters, you are so in love with each other

• singing together: you’re always listening to music, in the car, at your places, so you’re both singing to it, sometimes even pretending you’re performing. You’re both in your own little world

• also dancing together: and you’re not always singing, you are also dancing, goofing around, having the times of your lives together. Poor neighbors, they not only hear the music loud, they can also hear your footsteps. But you don’t care. You’re together, having fun, almost falling because you’re both being crazy, exhausting yourselves, but you’re with each other, that’s all that matters

[lestappenforever]

Hilarious to me that charles went from spain to maranello to the sim and then to austria in the span of less than a week and made it on time, but max was late because he was streaming, i assume. You know his phone was blowing up with texts from charles for daring to be late to their public yappng session after being separated (by the cruel fia press con grouping) for so long. Thats why he adopted logan immediately, as revenge and also because logan needs the comforting and to help oscar adapt to his new family better as one of the few non-ferrari supporters. Prayers to the rest of the group who had their hopes of avoiding being third wheeled dashed so cruelly 🙏

The fact that Max has his own jet makes this whole thing even funnier.

Also, I can absolutely see Charles revenge-adopting more and more grid kids everytime Max does something to piss him off. And Logan makes an excellent addition to the ever-growing family.

And the grid should know by now that there's no escaping those two idiots. If they're in the same room together, there will be third wheels.

[girlsdads]

couldn’t be normal about that second gif

cw: watersports, consensual somnophilia (adjacent?). max has a pussy also because i said

Max wakes with his thighs parted around Daniel’s head, one tanned hand gripping the meat of his left buttcheek, the other heavy against his lower belly. Max groans as he feels his bladder throb underneath Daniel’s palm, the pressure that’s clear in its meaning. Daniel’s tongue works Max’s clit in gentle strokes, moving downward, coaxing.

The first time he’d woken like this, Max had instinctively tried to wiggle away, the indulgent thrill of having Daniel’s mouth on him overpowered by the horror of realizing he was seconds away from taking his morning piss right down Daniel’s throat. But Daniel had yanked him tight against his face and—whined—like that’s exactly what he’d wanted, and Max had been so absolutely floored that he’d forgotten to be self-conscious when the first stream splashed onto Daniel’s tongue.

Now, heady as he always is with the knowledge that Daniel fucking loves this, Max relaxes into the nest of blankets surrounding him and lets go.

The relief is instant and it makes Max sigh, going boneless where Daniel is holding his pelvis slightly propped, angled so that piss sprays the roof of Daniel’s mouth. Daniel makes a noise like he’s been struck, seals his lips over Max and just keeps him there, letting Max go. He’s not swallowing, allowing it to pool in his mouth before Max feels him open his jaw to send warm urine spilling down his chin and to the sheets and under Max’s butt. They are so reckless to do this, Max always thinks later, when they are stripping the bed and inspecting the mattress damage, but then—why would Max worry about things when he gets to use Daniel like this?

Max threads his fingers through Daniel’s sweaty curls, yanks his head up so he can watch his piss as it trickles down Daniel’s flushed cheeks and into his mustache. His bottom lip is slack and dribbling. The stream is wetting the curls by his ears. His hips are starting to hump the mattress. He looks dazed and stupid and stunning. Max loves him.

Max lets Daniel get his mouth back against him as he arches and pushes out the last few spurts. As soon as he’s done he feels himself open around Daniel’s hot tongue. A moan escapes him, Daniel tonguing hungrily into the wet clench of his cunt, urine soaked nose rubbing against his swollen clit. He uses both hands to cup the back of Daniel’s skull and holds him there, hips working until he’s shaking through an orgasm that leaves Daniel’s face slippery with him.

“Maxy,” Daniel gasps, sliding up to position the head of his cock against where Max is soaked and quivering, “can I—fuck—please, let me…”

Max locks his legs around Daniel’s hips and nudges him forward so that his fat tip stretches Max, makes him ache in that way he likes best. It is always best when Daniel is in him, when Max’s body opens for him like it is meant for nothing else.

“You can, Daniel. I want it.” Always wants it. Every time they do this.

Daniel sobs and his arms quake where they’re bracketing Max’s head. His cock kicks where it’s only in Max just a little—Max feels the thick blurt of come against his walls, giving way to a hot jet of piss as Daniel sighs and melts. Max relaxes wholly under Daniel’s comforting weight. Daniel empties himself fully into Max and when his cock goes soft Max clenches as tight as he can. Only a little dribbles out as Daniel leaves him and Daniel whispers that’s perfect, honey. Max feels perfect.

Daniel flops down beside him and smiles dopily, hand coming to rest on Max’s lower belly, ever so slightly swollen. Max laces their fingers together and holds them there, where he’s warm and full with Daniel.

[cerastes]

[SRW OGS] Ingram THE END - The Technique That Will Defeat The Smirker

We have gone from a party composed of two Gespies, three Messer fighter jets (in the mech game), and some pocket lint to having a veritable army of tried and true sluggers, street soldiers of the highest caliber, and also the Wizard, I guess, now, we need to finally put an end... An END to INGRAM.

Can we do it in this stream? With your power and all of our hopes and dreams powering up the T-Link System... Perhaps, just perhaps... We can defeat the Superfluous Smirker...! And this maxed out Mecha Demon Blade, that helps, too. Justice at Swordpoint!

Let's get started... With some spreadsheets, of course, and then some strategy ar pee jeeing as we all know and love around these parts!

We're live! Hop in!