#max draws things sometimes

[galindathegay]

Very clearly a WIP, but the memory of short-haired Elphie being discussed in the Wicked discord eons ago possessed me last night. Face 1 of 5.

[starry-bi-sky]

tales of the passerine - danny fenton being bruce wayne's first kid

okay okay. so this is like a continuation/elaboration of my oneshot/prompt i wrote about the idea that Danny was the first batkid. We have a lot of aus where he joins the family after the rest of the bats do, right? So hey! Lets shake things up a bit. Danny is the first to be adopted by Bruce Wayne.

Danny's parents and unfortunately Jazz die shortly after the events of TUE -- how so? I was gonna say an ecto-filter explosion, that would call back to the TUE explosion and trauma behind that. But lets do something new! Carbon-monoxide poisoning.

It's not too unexpected for something to break in the Fenton house, especially with the Fenton parents' questionable understanding of proper weapon handling and lab safety. The water heater broke from a stray shot by one of the weapons, and was promptly MacGyver'd incorrectly. Danny went to stay with Tucker for a guys' night, and came back to a dead silent house.

(Danny's neighbors got a very unfortunate shock when he ran to the next house over in hysterics.)

There was a lot of shuffling around with CPS, the police. People had to be called in to handle the equipment in the lab, and the GIW was rumoring to show up in aid to clearing the scene. When Danny heard of that, he immediately went and dismantled the ghost portal to the best of his abilities. He burned the physical blueprints of all his parents' inventions, their blueprints on the ghost portal, and their most dangerous weapons were destroyed beyond recognition. Anything to prevent the GIW from getting their hands on his parents' tech.

It opened up another investigation, but he was not under the list of suspects. He was placed in the care of Vlad Masters, where they then went back to the rebuilt castle mansion in Wisconsin. Danny, terrified of the future that has once passed and may do so again, shuts down in his grief. Inadvertently, he ends up somewhat repressing his ghost half. Something Vlad, who is grieving Madeline but relishing in Jack's demise and his custody of Daniel, is not very happy with.

Vlad's... gone into a bit of a mental health spiral. He's becoming increasingly possessive over Daniel, the final remnants of his friends and a liminal being like him. He doesn't like that Danny's repressing his ghost half -- both out of genuine concern as a ghost, but also because of his desire to control Danny and groom him into the perfect son. If you ever had a phase where you read Dark SBI found family fics, first off; me too bro, and second off; those are the vibes I'm thinking of.

Danny's mentally shut down from grief! And fear. He's dropped into a bad depressive state -- paralyzed with grief and the terror of the inevitable. Clockwork saved his parents because he believes in second chances, but what's the point of that when his family ended up dead anyways? Danny doesn't wanna believe that he's destined to become evil, and he's holding out onto that hope, but it's a thin line, and he feels utterly hopeless and trapped. He hasn't used his powers or ghost form since he trashed the lab, and Vlad has alarms set up to prevent him from trying to escape.

He's also unintentionally cut off Sam and Tucker -- both of whom are so scared and concerned for Danny too, and are trying their damndest to reach out to him. He keeps ignoring their texts. Danny basically haunts Vlad's manor. He goes out to eat if he has to, attends parties Vlad drags him to, and stays in his room all day if he can.

At parties, Vlad doesn't allow Danny to leave his side, or really talk to anyone -- not that Danny wants to. A product of Vlad's increasing possessiveness. Well, he almost doesn't let Danny leave his side. Danny has a habit of slipping off to hide somewhere for the parties whenever he can, and Vlad reluctantly allows it so long as he stays alone.

This becomes an advantage when eventually, Bruce Wayne returns to Gotham after missing for years, and holds a bright charity ball to celebrate the return. Vlad has been chomping at the bits to get his hands on Wayne Industries, and with the return of its owner there is no better opportunity to wipe out his rival. He goes, and he as normal, brings Daniel with him.

Vlad thinks Wayne will bleed his little heart out for Daniel's poor orphan sob story -- he's a fellow orphan himself, after all. He's not wrong; Wayne's little heart will bleed, just not in the way that benefits him.

Bruce sees Vlad and Danny approaching before they're even close enough to introduce themselves - and like with many of the children he will soon come to care for, it's like someone set a mirror into the past right in front of him.

Danny Fenton's suit is tailor-made for him, and despite the fact that it's his perfect size, the sag in his shoulders, the ducked down head, and the way he hunches into himself all pictures the image of a child in shoes too big for him. There's a far away, glazed over look in his eyes and grief marble-cut into the lines of his face. There's not enough makeup in the world that will hide the dark circles under his eyes.

("My nephew, Daniel Fenton." Vlad's hands are possessive on Danny's shoulders. Bruce immediately notices the way the boy tenses under his touch. "His parents passed recently, and as his godfather I was designated his guardian.") ("I'm so sorry, the loss must've been terrible.") ("Yes, carbon-monoxide poisoning caused it. Daniel was out with friends, when he came home... they had already passed.") (Bruce immediately dislikes that Vlad shared the details of their death unprompted -- he likes it even less when Danny flinches at the reminder and hunches into himself.)

Danny runs off at some point earlier into the charity. At this point, parties are still being held at Wayne Manor (because iirc google search mentioned that was a thing at first before it was changed), so he disappears and hides in one of the empty rooms nearby. It just so happens to be the same room Bruce Wayne hides in when he needs a break from all of the socialization.

Thus begins a long, long process of trust. Bruce can't reveal his hand as being smarter than he looks, but he can be compassionate. Kindness needs no measure of intelligence. He keeps Danny company for as long as he can before he runs the risk of being found.

Rinse and repeat. Vlad insistently wants Wayne Industries, and he'll go to as many Wayne parties as he can to get his hooks into the man. The problem is that Bruce Wayne is never alone, and getting him alone is impossible. Finding him too. It's like the man never stops moving. Always talking to someone, always circling somewhere. He orbits around the room as if he isn't the sun of the Gotham Elite's solar system.

Danny's had such repetitive behavior that Vlad never thinks to believe that Bruce Wayne is disappearing to go talk to him. That "Vlad's" son is even interacting with him at all. Danny never gives him a reason to think so, and neither does Bruce.

Danny doesn't actually acknowledge Bruce until a handful of parties in, where he hands Bruce a small slip of paper he smuggled in that says; "don't trust Vlad". Danny's face stays carefully blank, but he's so tense that his hands are trembling, and he's purposely looking away from him. Bruce plasters a smile onto his face, slips the paper into his pocket, and tells him "okay".

(he's been busy with his own goals with the mafia, but he sets aside time to investigate Vlad Masters. He was holding off. Until now.)

Danny does eventually start speaking to Bruce, he's starting to really like the guy. He's starting to see a little hope, even as Vlad is starting to get more and more agitated with him the more he refuses to use his powers.

He reaches out to Sam and Tucker again, and starts trying to reconnect with them. Vlad has spyware on his phone, and he limits the amount of times he can talk to them. A weird parental control lock of some sort that leaves a time limit on how long he can talk to them for. 30 minutes. Danny doesn't tell them anything about Mr. Wayne.

Danny, slowly, wants out of here, and he's slowly gathering the motivation to do it. Vlad is genuinely scaring him -- and Danny wonders just how truthful the past-future Vlad was when he told him that Danny wanted his ghost half separate. He starts trying to come up with an escape plan.

Vlad has anti-ghost wards everywhere around the mansion, and while they're always on, they boost to full power at sunset. The doors and windows are always locked, all main exits have alarms set on them. The only reason it's not super extensive is because Danny hasn't tried leaving at all yet, so Vlad hasn't had to tighten anything.

At night, Vlad locks the door to his room and puts up an anti-ghost ward around the room. The mansion is on the outside westward side of Madison, more entrenched in rural Wisconsin. The closest town is a four-way stop sign with one house on three corners, and an open bar on the fourth. Not much to go.

He refuses to go to Sam and Tucker; Vlad would look there first. It's too dangerous. Vlad would sound alarm bells and have a manhunt looking for him, Danny can't risk going just anywhere. Too much risk of being found, sold out, or caught. There's really nowhere for him to hide.

Until there is. Bruce is telling Danny about the history of Wayne Manor, and says, as casually as saying the weather; "The manor has dozens of empty rooms, I'm sure Alfred wouldn't mind filling another one if he could." And quietly, hesitantly, Bruce places a careful hand on Danny's shoulder, unrestrictive and gentle; "He wouldn't mind getting one ready for you if you need one."

And there it is. There's his out.

Danny, just as quietly, replies; "I'll keep that in mind."

The ball starts rolling.

Now I've been trying to summarize this au as much as possible for length convenience, but Vlad has been steadily growing more and more controlling. More emotionally manipulative. More agitated at Danny for not using his powers.

He wants Wayne Industries under his thumb but he's been steadily growing more and more concerned with Danny. He's started grabbing him, yanking him around, shaking him; trying to goad him into using his powers. He gets angry when Danny doesn't react, or tells him he doesn't want to use his powers. He hasn't outright attacked him, but he's getting there. This has been happening over the time it takes for Bruce to indirectly offer Danny sanctuary at his home.

It all comes to a head when Vlad stops going to parties at all -- something Danny has to pretend he isn't upset about -- because Vlad doesn't want him around other people anymore. Vlad rarely goes now without him, and only leaves to go to a Wayne function or to handle something at VladCo.

Danny can't wait for Vlad to leave long enough to escape. So he leaves during the night of a big storm. Vlad's locked him in his room, but Danny doesn't bother trying to go for it; he goes to the alarmed window instead. Danny's been repressing his ghost half so long that he can't access his powers immediately anymore -- he can feel it, he knows its there, but he can't quite reach it.

He breaks the lock by hand.

Immediately the alarm goes off through the entire castle, filling the room with red, and he scrambles for the rope the Wisconsin Ghost left for him a few months back. Danny's already out and climbing down the side of the castle before Vlad even reaches his door -- the only good thing about the entire room being ghost-proof is that Vlad can't get in that way.

The rope ends before it reaches the bottom, and he's still twenty feet in the air. It won't kill him if he lands it right. Danny takes his chances, and drops. He breaks his ankle, but he survives.

And he fucking books it to the back garden. He hears Vlad shrieking over the thunder and rain.

I'll save the full experience for a future oneshot, but Danny makes it out into the nearby woods and forcibly experiences what it's like to be in a horror game, trying to hide from the thing that's hunting you. There's only one thing going through his mind; "i'm going to die"

I have this mental image for this scene. Very stereotypical horror imo. Where Danny is hiding behind a tree, with a hand over his mouth, and Vlad is a few feet away from him, glowing ominously red through the trees, trying to search for him.

Danny doesn't get away from this unscathed, but he does get away alive. That's all he could ask for. He gets away by getting his ghost half awakened long enough to transform into Phantom and fly to Gotham.

But he gets to Wayne Manor, he gets to Bruce. Or, at least, Alfred answers the door from his insistent pounding. Danny's just in tears and Alfred gets him in the living room, wrapped in a towel, with ice on his swollen leg before he has to step out and alert Bruce.

Bruce already breaks multiple traffic laws on a nightly basis. And that's just with the sheer existence of the batmobile itself, not including the speeding and military artillery attached. He breaks double the amount trying to speed back to the cave and get out of the suit.

Right off the bat: Bruce will know, at least before Dick enters the picture, about danny's powers. He'll figure out something considering the fact that Danny traveled from Wisconsin to New York in a single night. That'll be a bit of complicated affair, but I've already got something in mind.

Actually it'll probably be very soon after Danny joins the family, because Bruce tries to offer to fight for custody for Danny - the state Danny was in at arrival is clear enough evidence for a trial. But Danny immediately shuts it down, says it's not going to work and then Vlad will know Danny's with him and he won't be safe. He tells him that Vlad cannot know Danny was with Bruce.

Danny's biggest regret was not telling his parents he was a halfa, and while he doesn't want to tell mister wayne (yet), he does tell him about Vlad being one. He needs to know why Danny can't be seen with Bruce. So he tells him, and Danny's current plan is to just hide out from Vlad until he turns 18. That way, he has no more legal jurisdiction over him. After that? He's not sure.

And to wrap this up, since this has already gotten very long and I can make more posts about this au later; I've thought about it, and I'm going to say that Danny does become a vigilante before Dick enters the scene. He goes by, as you probably guessed; Nightingale. "Gale" for short.

[bottlemandx]

award for most neurotic 13 year old goes to...!!!!

(LOW-EFFORT FUNNIES UNDER CUT)

[artkaninchenbau]

An AWS comic

[lilacs-stash]

I provided exactly one thing to this fandom and that is pictures of the grand slams cuddling

[dreamsy990]

obligatory black mask redesign except i only changed like one thing and im not sure i like the final result

inspo for this btw

[sharpfurry5917]

There is absolutely NO heterosexual explanation for this!!

Other variations under the cut

Redraw from this short

[desultory-novice]

“The Sun Never Sets...”

Oh god... A continuation... I’m NOT coloring this one  It would destroy me. You get sketches and that’s it.

CW: mind break, death ideation, no salvation

“...the sun never sets in hell...”

-

-

-

Comedy Bonus: 

(Because this was breaking my heart...)

Not THAT alone, Marx...

Translation: “I always thought this place could use some renovating”

Links to the rest of the mini-series:

Part 1″A Beautiful Sunset” Part 2 “The Sun Never Sets” [You Are Here] Part 3 “Screams of Joy” Part 4 “Visitors” Part 5 “A Perfect Circle”

Relevant: “Conditional”

Prologue: “Selfish Needs”

[samuraisharkie]

due to Life Shit I kind of stopped drawing much about a year or two after I graduated high school bc I just kind of didn’t have the time or mental/emotional/physical capacity to fit it in, despite art being something I really want to be a part of my career. It kind of makes me sick to realize how much muscle memory I lost just from that time (I had only about a year and a half total of absolutely no art but that was enough. doesn’t help that during that time I seriously injured my hands) considering I’ve been drawing my entire life. I really wish things had not gone that way and that I could have kept going, but expectations were on me to do something else and any time I sat down to draw was treated as wasting time. There’s also something weird about recovering from severe trauma that kind of adjusts how you engage with a hobby you used as a coping mechanism, which Art very much was. I almost never drew vent art, but I used it to focus on something and make myself happy and proud of work I actually could do, and once I was out of the environments that funneled me into drawing (being forced to go to church, school, anything involving sitting down for a long period of time) I found less time to actually have an excuse. Someone bought me a single college course of art classes right out of high school, and I think that was where I COULD have had the opportunity to really get started if I had actually had the money to continue and the college hadn’t been so far away. After that course ended I didn’t have that excuse anymore. I used to draw in DeviantArt and Discord art groups, but those began to fall apart and soon I didn’t have that option either. After that I doodled but didn’t really create Full Pieces unless some friend asked it of me, and it was never a commission bc I’d never trained myself to get that sort of shit done without taking too long, so I’d always do it for free. So even that wasn’t a big motivator eventually. Now that I’m struggling for work after becoming more physically disabled after COVID, all that time I could have spent honing my art skills so I could do SOMETHING with my art really is weighting down on me. I have the option to do freelance work, illustrations, pet commissions, even things like cards and cookies. I’ve seen these avenues open up for me gradually, but I’ve lost the skills I built up that I need to actually make something I’m proud of. I’ve taken to tracing old art to try and remember my thought process and my “style”… but my memory was bad BEFORE the covid, and it’s worse now, and my brain fog makes it hard to focus even if I could get back on the train of thought. I don’t remember the construction that would be in my mind’s eye. I barely can keep a clear vision in my mind’s eye anymore, worryingly. I never had a crystal clear imagination, it was always sort of abstract, but I could see the lines, I could construct a scene. Now I have to focus hard to get any sort of detail clear in my head. It’s like if you tried to look directly into someone’s face in a dream, or put in a prompt in neural blender. So I have to adjust to performing the entire thought process physically, slowly and tediously trying to figure out what I’m imagining before I can really get started. Those old art tutorials for constructing shapes and bodies and such just aren’t coming naturally anymore so I have to dredge deep into my mind to remember which advice helped “click” the best and knowing it might not do it this second time around. It’s like if you forgot how to ride a bike. It was something natural to you, you could even get started haphazardly and distracted and still be able to tell where you were going and not fall over or trip on yourself, but now it’s like you have to focus on each step and it constantly feels like it’s taking everything you have to not crash. I’m glad I can start drawing again, but it hurts that something so huge in my life has been turned into this. I’ve ranted about it before it’s just easier to notice when you’re not sketching out people’s pets or doing super stylized doodles.

[animatingforfun]

This was a pure joy to work on.

For the behind-the-scenes story of how I made this animated mini-short, click “keep reading” below.

I started this 6 weeks ago, just before Nintendo shut down its 3DS and WiiU servers. The server shutdown meant no more multi-player online play for 3DS games, like Mario Kart 7, but also no more uploading to the Butterfly Animation online gallery directly from the app.

As an homage to the Inchworm and Butterfly Animation apps for the DSi and 3DS that I’ve been animating on since 2011, I originally was just going to animate just a single shot featuring something butterfly related.

But the story evolved as I began asking myself a series of "what if" questions that I had fun answering, like, “what if it was a little girl playing dress up as a butterfly?” And then “what if she was first cosplaying as a caterpillar then the butterfly?” “If this is a story of growth, what if she stumbles? What is her attitude when she stumbles?” “What if the design of the girl was something like Isao Takahata or Yoichi Kotabe would draw?”

Making this was the embodiment of everything I hope to achieve with my personal animation: to let creativity flow and just have fun animating and creating.

Since this mini-short was animated on my Nintendo 3DS, there was a memory limit of only 100 drawings, which was a bit of a challenge for longer or complex actions, but was a fun puzzle to solve. Sometimes limitations force you to come up with even more creative solutions. (I was able the squeeze in more drawings than the memory allowed, and filled it to the max!) :)

The song I used is from Rebecca Sugar’s album, "Spiral Bound", and perfectly fit the theme of the short. Initially, while I was drawing the character, I found myself humming a tune from Steven Universe that dealt with beginnings, endings, and not being ready. It’s amazing how the brain can subconsciously pick the playlist!

In the end, that song, sung by Steven’s father in the show, didn’t quite fit, but then I remembered another song by Rebecca Sugar which was more on theme with my story, called “My Own Way to the End”. The whole album is wonderful! You can check it out here:

Painting the backgrounds for this was the most challenging thing for me, but also the most eye opening! After painting, I would look around at the trees in the neighborhood differently. So many colors when you really look closely.

There’s so many talented people at my work and it was great that I could ask them for advice. One person I asked was the talented Tia Kratter, who happened to teach a mini-painting class for the animators while I was working on this short. I asked her for advice on one of the background paintings and she asked great questions which challenged me to try different things, but I still felt like I was having fun and playing without fear of failure. I mean, it was still hard though! Hahaha!

If you’ve read up to this point, thank you for reading this. :) I hope you enjoy this mini-short as much as I enjoyed making it!

[sinofwriting]

The Wedding Bells Aren't For Me - Max Verstappen (& Lando Norris)

Words: 1,681 Summary: It’s Oscar’s wedding and Lando is ready. He’s ready to finally ask her out. But Max just had to ruin it. Note(s): Piastri!Reader, Lando is upset and bitter in this. Lando girlies please be nice to me.

Masterlist | Support Me!

Lando smiles as he watches Oscar and Lily finish their first dance, other people starting to join. It had been a beautiful ceremony, one that Lily had clearly put a lot of thought into and the reception hall showed that as well.

His eyes move around the room, taking in the few different people from McLaren, Oscar’s family, Lily’s family, and drivers, retired, active, never made it to F1, there was quite a collection. He pulls a bit at his tie as he notices the table that a few drivers and their partners had taken over.

Charles and Alex, Pierre and Kika, Lily and Alex, and god that was a bit confusing, Mark was over there as well, Carmen and George and most importantly Y/N, Oscar’s sister.

She was laughing at something Pierre just said, Kika and Alex both examining her nails while Charles shakes his head at the French driver.

She looked gorgeous in her maid of honor dress and Lando can remember the confusion that had flooded him when Oscar had said that she was the maid of honor before he tried to get the best man position despite knowing that Oscar hadn’t even considered him to be a groomsman, they just didn’t talk off and away from the track. Though a bit of bitterness had hit him when he learned who Oscar’s best man was.

The color of the dress brought out her eyes and the thought reminds him of her speech. Talking about how as both sister of the groom and best friend of the bride, she had been so happy when they got together and how thrilled she was to see them take this next step.

A soft smile forms on his face as he remembers her speech, it had been heartfelt and with a few funny moments. He had expected her to bring up some embarrassing moments, but she had only gently teased the couple a few times. Even Logan hadn’t brought up anything embarrassing in his best man speech.

As he stares at her, he can’t help but imagine her in a different dress, in a wedding dress, a veil covering her face as she walks down the aisle to him. It was far too soon to think about to consider, but maybe it was like what people said, there was just something about weddings.

He continues to watch her as she talks to Kika, Alex, Pierre and Charles. Sometimes Mark chiming in or George or Carmen, but it’s mainly those five that are talking. It’s surprising seeing how easy the five converse. He hadn’t really been aware that she was close to Charles or Pierre. He knew she was close to their girlfriends, to most of the driver’s girlfriends, as fans like to share photos of the girls together and talking.

His eyes break away for a moment as he hears the loud sound of laughing and watches as Lily laughs, a hand over her heart as Oscar and Logan bicker about something, he thinks he can hear just the word karting.

It makes him wish Carlos was here, but there was no way in hell that he was ever going to get invited. The thought of Carlos makes his eyebrows furrow because what was Pierre or George doing here?

Oscar wasn’t close to many drivers on track let alone keeping up with them off track. He knew that because of Logan, Alex and him talked a bit off track. Charles and Oscar had joked about the father and son thing, but a genuine friendship had formed after Monaco this year. But Pierre and George made no sense.

The only thing he can think of is that George had been one of the few drivers that had also been somewhat close to Logan, having the same manager, and maybe he had gotten an invite like that. And well Pierre and Charles were probably the friendliest drivers off track, probably the only two that would actually be friends if they hadn’t ended up in F1. They were an oddity.

The sound of her laughs draws him out of his thoughts and he smiles again at the sight, drinking it in.

He doesn’t know why, but the sound of it now fills him with confidence. He was going to do it. He was going to ask her out. He’d wanted to since the 2024 season had started, since after seeing how happy she was for Oscar in Qatar when Oscar won his first sprint race. He should have done it sooner, but it never felt like a good time, but now feels like the perfect time.

She was happy, smiling, and weddings made people think about love, about relationships, being in love.

Lando nods to himself, taking a deep breath. He was going to get up and ask her to dance and then as they danced, maybe he’d press a little closer, maybe not, and he’d ask her to go on a date with him.

He’s just about to get up when he notices someone enter the large room.

Max.

He shakes his head. He knew from overhearing Charles and Pierre that the older driver would be late, having to take his jet later than everyone else coming in due to some meeting or something, but he’d honestly figured it was just an excuse. He knew that Lily and Oscar had sent out the wedding invitations before August, but they hadn’t taken away his invite? Made an excuse about needing to give his seat to someone else?

Then again, Charles was here as well, and if it had been up to Lando he wouldn’t have gotten an invitation or it would have been rescinded after Monza, after Austin, after fucking Vegas.

His eyes go back to Y/N, the sight of her calming him down and he stands, ready to go ever to her when she stands as well. His heart thuds in his chest and he expects her to turn towards him, but she doesn’t. She’s moving, practically running and Lando’s fists clench as she throws her arms around Max’s neck, the other driver’s arm wrapping around her waist and squeezing tight.

The hug seems to go for hours before they finally stop, but even then, it’s just a small step away from the other. Her arms are still around Max’s neck, his hands now settled on her hips and it makes Lando burn. Max shouldn’t be touching her like that, shouldn’t be touching her at all.

Anger fills him as he watches her lean in and then their lips are brushing before Max moves a hand to her lower back, removing what little space there had been between them and fully kisses her.

He just had to take everything from him. From everyone. Max knew how much he wanted the championship, had to have known how much he wanted her, and he still took both from him because that’s all that Max does. Take and never even thinks of giving back.

—

“She never looks at my nails like that.” Pierre complains and she can’t help but laugh, her fingers wiggling a bit in Kika and Alex’s hold.

“Paint them and maybe she will.”

Pierre makes a face. “But the smell is so bad.”

Charles tilts his head in confusion. “The smell?”

“It’s a bit chemically. Too strong for some people.”

“Ah.” Charles nods. “Like hair dye.”

“Actually, exactly like hair dye.”

“Have you guys seen the photo of Charles’ as a blonde?”

Her eyes widened at Alex’s words. “No.”

Alex reaches for her phone, smiling at Charles when he presses a kiss to her hand before giving it to her. 

“Someone tagged me in it on TikTok, they did a wonderful job.” She tells them, scrolling before finally turning her phone and showing Pierre and Kika and then her.

Another laugh leaves her as she looks at it and Pierre and Kika join her, having been stifling their laughs.

“Oh, Charles.”

“I know.”

“Please never bleach your hair.”

He shakes his head. “Never.” His fingers twirl a lock of Alex’s hair, tugging it lightly. “This one would murder me.”

“Mate, your mother would murder you.” Pierre laughs.

“Pascale would murder you and whoever sold you the bleach.” Kika murmurs, making them all laugh.

She’s about to ask how Pascale is, both Pascales, but her attention is caught by someone entering the room and her eyes widen, a smile blooming across her face and she’s getting up and rushing over to him.

She throws herself at him, grinning at the laugh he gives as his arms wrap around her waist, squeezing her as she squeezes his neck.

“You made it.” She murmurs.

“I made it. I nearly killed him but I made it.”

She takes a small step back, Max’s hands settling on her hips, giving them a squeeze and she can’t help but lean in. Lips brushing together before a hand is on her lower back pressing her closer and Max kisses her.

She nearly moans into it.

It had only been a few days, but those days had been long with them only exchanging a few texts as she wrapped herself up in making sure the wedding and reception were perfect while he tried to cram in as many meetings and things as possible so they could just be together for the last two and a half weeks of January.

“I never want to do that again.” Max murmurs when they break apart.

She smiles, pecking his lips. “Me neither. And we won’t have to again. I’ll be around you twenty-four seven.” Her heart beats faster, excitement rushes through her as she’s reminded that they now fully live together, she’ll be going to every race this season, she’ll be with Max all the time.

“Good. Now, let me congratulate my future brother-in-law.”

She beams, kissing him again before they walk over to where Oscar and Lily are and as they do, she can’t help but think of how soon enough it will be Max and her getting congratulations on getting married.

[bunny-jpeg]

Hi, could I get a swiss roll with a figgy duff and a side of champagne served by Max Verstappen?

Thank you in advance 🫶

bakery menu!!

want to submit an order? then hit up the menu! i'd love to hear from you and everything you wish to suggest! requests are still open, but updates won't be posted from sept 23rd-29th 2024 due to a vacation! but feel free to submit orders for when i return! for this lovely anon i hope you love this fic, i am very proud of how everything turned out! thank you again for ordering and have a great day! <3

swiss roll ("everything you own, everything you wear i paid for. so i guess that means i own you.") + figgy duff ("if i buy it, will you stop pouting?") + champagne (sugar daddy au) served by max verstappen (formula one)!!

cw: smut/pwp, sugar daddy au, stuffed animal abuse, couch sex, jealousy, doggy style, daddy kink

max knew that he could have next to anything he wanted. his entire world was his oyster before thirty. his salary would make some gasp, but it simply made him grin. he pushed himself to his limits to get on top, and he wasn't stopping now.

but even the greats had their weaknesses. and for max that came in the form of soft eyes and softer lips with a deep likeness for hello kitty.

"is this one hello kitty? it looks like a rabbit?" max asked as he looked over at your phone screen to see what you were looking at. or rather in what ways were you going to use and abuse his credit card for the week.

in all fairness you could've abused his finances a lot harder and max would've been fine with it. he could retire from racing tomorrow and still spoil you till the sun burnt out. you still tried to find deals and coupons on things you wanted him to buy you. sometimes you still got hot in the face when you saw the total of a shopping cart.

you were raised in such a different world than him and max liked that. but, while he had a weak spot for your softness. you had a weak spot for stuffed animals. especially sanrio.

"no, no. they're not all hello kitty. this one is cinnamoroll, and he's a dog."

max looked at the screen a little closer, "looks like a rabbit to me."

you pointed at the screen, "no, no. look at his ears, those are dog ears." max nodded, still not totally convinced. who would draw a dog like that. but when you saw the price of the large stuffed animal, you pouted. and max noticed you were pouting.

he took the phone from you and when you tried to get your phone back. he placed his free hand on your forehead. he said, "if i buy it, will you stop pouting? i can afford it, treasure."

"but the import fees."

"they'll be paid." he added the stuffed animal to the cart. he didn't even look at the price in all fairness before he handed the phone back to you. you pouted further and max leaned in to kiss you on the lips, "enough of that. what else do you want?" then rubbed the top of your head with his large hand.

honestly, he knew very little about sanrio or hello kitty. he knew one time he kicked one of them off the bed in an attempt to get comfy after a long double header and you whined until he picked it up off the floor and apologized to the stuffed toy. but, anything for you, he supposed.

the plush toy along with some others arrived within a few weeks. max didn't really notice much of it until he caught you on the couch earlier that day with your arms wrapped around the stuffed toy. he hadn't realized how big it was, a little over a meter in size. it was soft with those long rabbit ears. but you were snuggled up with it watching television. you looked cute even with the t-shirt you wore slowly riding up over your stomach.

it made max stop in his tracked and divert from his path to the kitchen. you looked up at him and smiled, and he smiled back. he said to you, "everything you hoped for?"

you nodded, "yeah, now i have something to cuddle when you're gone." your comment was innocent, but it stirred something in max. he got closer and you kept your gaze on him. you smiled a little bit when he leaned down to kiss you on the lips.

"oh? replacing me so soon?" he asked as he reached towards you and pushed your t-shirt a little higher. you hid your face a little further into the stuffed animals, "oh no, no, my love. don't hide from me." it was easy to get your shirt off of you.

he licked his lips while your breasts pressed against the stuffed animal. he knew he'd have you whining soon enough and it curled something in his gut at the sight of you. you were amazing. the perfect baby girl that max could ever have. while he was fine with you buying what you desired, he didn't want to be replaced with a stuffed toy.

because no stuffed toy could compare to your daddy.

"you better not replace me, my love. everything you own, everything you wear i paid for. so i guess that means i own you. so there is no replacing me. i paid for these." he said as he pushed down your shorts and exposed the pretty panties underneath, "and i paid for your little friend." maybe max was a fool for being jealous over a stuffed animal, but your sudden attached to it made something curl in his brain.

you were soon naked and pressed against the stuffed animal. you looked over your shoulder at him and he pressed your face into the cinnamoroll plush, or whatever its name was. you whined, "daddy!"

"shh, shh. i need to make sure this rabbit knows who you belong to. or he's being sent back to wherever he came from."

you arched your back to pretty for him as you tried to argue, "it's a dog!"

he smacked your ass before he pulled away to get his t-shirt off. you behaved and kept your face pressed against the stuffed animal. he got out of his pants and underwear before he pressed his cock up against your ass. he said, "it could be a turtle for all i can. but, i need to make sure that you don't go running off with a stuffed toy while i'm away." he kissed the back of your neck as he rubbed himself up against you.

you whimpered and held onto the toy tighter, "daddy, please." then moaned when he sank his cock into you. it was true, he did pay for everything. you were there to look pretty and be the perfect girl for him.

"so pretty." he said, "i worry about you when i leave, you're so soft and could get into a lot of trouble." he groaned a little bit as he started to find his pace as he fucked you on the couch.

"i can be a good girl." you replied, you held onto the stuffed toy and drooled a little bit against it as max's cock hit up against some of your sweetest spots. your toes curled in your socks as he found his rhythm.

"i know. i know." he said, "but you should be cuddling me. not this toy. so i have to show it who's in charge." you couldn't help but giggle, but they were soon silenced when he pressed himself further against you and took you by the face and kissed you deeply on the lips.

his thrusts were fast, and it forced you further up against the couch. the kisses were hot and made you feel warm all over. your sweet noises even while you kissed made max run hot. he knew that only he could make you feel this good. he knew that he ruined you, and that you'd always yearn for his cock.

you drooled a little more when the kiss broke and your face found comfortable against the fur of the toy. you clung to it tightly for some kind of support but max had full control of the pace. you felt a little hazy in the brain as he continued to fuck you.

"i love you." you said softly.

"and i love you." he replied, "can't help but be a little jealous sometimes. anyone would be lucky to have you, but i have you all to myself. everything you own belongs to me, paid with my credit card. maybe i should make you wear my name at all times so nobody gets the wrong idea." his words were hot and flooded with brain with a heightened pleasure.

max continued to thrust against you. soon his pace became quicker and rougher. he pressed you further against the couch and the toy. he kissed you once more, it was rough against your lips as you came around his cock.

you clung to the stuffed animal as you tensed up. you panted through the kiss as you nails dug into the plush toy, only loosening your grip when you came down from your climax.

face pressed once more into the soft fur as max rocked himself against you, almost bouncing you on his cock. he pressed into you further before he finished inside of you. he shuddered as he finished. eventually he slowed down until a stop then pulled out. he panted heavily and used his t-shirt to wipe the sweat off his forehead.

he admired your backside before he put you onto your back. he looked at the stuffed animal, the embroidered eyes looked at him and he smiled. he said to the toy, "she's mine."

you placed your hands on his face and said, "c'mon, max! he isn't going to replace you!"

"he won't when i'm finished with you." <3

[annewithaneofthegreengable]

Kinktober - Day 13

13th — mommy kink, Max Verstappen

The previous day I The next day I Kinktober masterlist I Main list

Prompt: You are his team principal, and lately, things haven’t gone very smoothly how he wanted. So overnight meeting back at the factory or sometimes through Zoom is a must to save both the WDC and WCC’s titles for Max and the team. And it’s all too much since Christan didn’t realise how fucked up the car is and change it like Toto once said publicly before on the Drive to Survive show, before handling to you his position. 

You could always tell when something had become too much for Max. His shoulders would slump impossibly further, and you could tell that he was ready to leave. so you’d find a way to swoop him away, it seemed like you were always at the ready to get him out of situations you knew he would be uncomfortable in. Maybe that’s where his little kink had come from. You weren’t sure, all you knew was he’d said it once, and from then you’d taken up the mantle.

you settled on your shared bed, body reclined against the pillow as Max laid next to you, head resting on your chest, “I’m sorry, mommy.”

Your mouth parted in question, hand stopping its comforting movement against his back, “for what?”

He shifted, his body rolling to rest between your legs, hands moving to push your shirt up to your chin, his tired eyes flickered from your breasts to your face, “for making you leave early...”

Your hand moved, guiding his head to your right breast, nodding at him to verify that you were okay with what he was doing before speaking again, “mommy isn’t mad, Maxie.”

Max looks up at you with tear-filled eyes, his voice barely above a whisper. "I'm sorry, Mommy. I didn't mean to cause such a scene earlier. I just... I couldn't handle being there anymore."

He takes a shaky breath, burying his face in your cleavage as if seeking comfort and protection from the world outside this room.

"I hate feeling like this. Weak and pathetic. I'm supposed to be strong, to be able to handle anything life throws at me. But I can't. Not anymore..."

His fingers clutch at the fabric of your shirt, knuckles turning white as he fights to keep control over his emotions.

"You're the only one who understands, Mommy. The only one who knows how to help me feel better again. Please... please don't let go of me."

“I will always be by your side, Maxie. Until you no longer need me…”

That’s all it took for him to latch on, suckling at your nipple until you hissed from the sting of it. his tongue followed afterwards, soothing the ache he’d inflicted, before he let go, his teeth dragging against you until you winced, a wet ‘pop’ echoing through the room. His hand moved from its place on your hip to wipe at the saliva on his face, and maybe you found that hotter than you should have, cunt leaking against the abdomen of his nightshirt. You keened his name when he latched on to the other peak of your breast, your pussy clamping around nothing already, your mind argued that you’d let him do this for as long as he wanted, he deserved it.

Max groans lowly as he nurses from your other breast, his tongue swirling and teasing the sensitive bud. He sucks harder, drawing out your moans and whimpers as he drinks in your pleasure.

"Mmm, Mommy..." he murmurs against your skin, his voice husky with desire. 

"You taste so sweet. So perfect. I could do this all day, every day..." His free hand slides down your stomach, fingers tracing the damp heat of your arousal through the thin fabric of his nightshirt. He presses against you firmly, feeling your clit throb against his palm.

"Do you want me to make you feel good, Mommy? To take care of you like only I can?" Max's words are punctuated by nibbles and kisses along your collarbone, working his way back up to your ear. Max's fingers dip below the waistband of your pants, searching for the slick heat of your core. When he finds it, he groans in satisfaction, rubbing slow circles over your clit as he continues to lavish attention on your breasts.

"Oh, Mommy... you're so wet for me already," he whispers, his hot breath fanning over your skin.

"Does the thought of me inside you, claiming you completely, make you this desperate for release?" With his other hand, Max tugs at the hem of his nightshirt, baring his hips and the rigid length of his cock to your hungry gaze. Pre-cum beads at the tip, evidence of his own arousal. "Tell me what you need, baby," he coaxes, his thumb pressing harder against your clit. "I'll give it to you. Anything, everything..."

Max's fingers slip past your panties, delving deep into your soaked folds. He pumps them slowly, curling to stroke your inner walls, as his thumb continues to circle your swollen clit.

"That's it, Mommy, ride my fingers," he encourages, his voice dripping with lust. "Show me how badly you crave it. How much do you need my cock filling you up."

He adds a third finger, scissoring and stretching you open as he drives in and out. His grip tightens, pulling you onto his hand as he thrusts faster, chasing your climax.

"You're so close, aren't you? I can feel you tightening around me," Max growls, his own erection throbbing with the need to be buried inside you. "Come for me, Mommy. Let go and scream my name."

“Maxie… Please…” 

Max groans deeply as he feels your walls flutter around his fingers, your orgasm crashing over you in intense waves. He works you through it, prolonging your pleasure until you collapse back against the pillows, spent and satisfied.

"That's my good girl," he praises, withdrawing his fingers and bringing them to his mouth to lick them clean. "So sweet and responsive, always ready for me."

Max shifts positions, settling between your spread thighs. He lines himself up with your entrance, the head of his cock nudging your sensitive flesh. "I love you, Mommy," he whispers fervently, "and I promise I'll never leave you. We belong together, always and forever."

With a smooth thrust of his hips, Max sheathes himself fully inside you, a guttural moan tearing from his throat at the exquisite sensation.

Taglist:@formula1-motogpfan@iamafootballfanmiasanmia@arian-directioner@annimausi@mythicalmaven@lucycowr@hamilton-mount @Chuxk-leclerk @landosgirl @Kikiaaaay @iluvvmeeee @stars4me @starz4me1 @fxrmuladaydreams @Ashleyo1611 @ln-fours @cloud-55 @neo-stay @mysteriesincorporated @nzygftoji @dinodumbass @qxeenjen @lilmacabe @9fi @sya-skies @toriiez @jud-3 @ryl-xoxo @fandomz-queenie @gracie23x @kr1sblog @b-law @F1fan24 @taylorsdoratheafr @missevrythingg @salma @cherrypopsicle @toasterpiastri @uhhvictoria @01rrdbull @aracelys-stuff @horseymchorse3 @lou-ghoul @unknownmystery22 @thisbitxhs-blog @toxicdreamer296 @maxivstappen @si1ver06 @mendes-bae @bestgirlie @mbioooo0000 @depressedgiftedburnout @lieslostinsilence @chaoticversion @kaydesssssssss @maryelizaart @milkyymelanine @bisrae @carlando4 @mystichandspruneshark @sweetwh0re @larastark3107 @fiveyjustin @moonchildlec @bicrazybabe @maximumflaps @sainzwife @i--sa @liviav @nitonan-blog @moodymoony71 @horrible-decision @verstappenluv111 @Meyla123X @bea-stilinksi24 @Hayley125 @imjustme-n @elizamoe133 @bernelflo @evie-likes-stuff @anne1444444 @celtis--vr @rockytheluver @orlafitz1664 @aliceespector @ricciadosredbull @novelant @briannamh07 @oliveswiftly @hotlapshottakes @sinners-98-world @ramenblutte @fallenlunar @little-nando14 @fore45fore @importantduckhumanoidpatrol @eroselless @strabunny @sydneyhlove @jkdaddy01 @multi-fandom5 @f1-hoff @kittylolly4 @reguluscrystals @uhhvictoria @arian-directioner @forza-dolce @dukeofjjune @vimayxo @ilove-tswizzle @peachapat119

[leaawrites]

Good Graces (LN4)

Lando Norris x fem!reader

Summary: when he does something suspect, he has to live with the consequences. Unless he stays in her good graces.

Warnings: swearing, talk about insecurities, almost breaking up, fluff, a bit of angst, secret relationship

Wordcount: 1.8k

Masterlist, Short n'Sweet Series

She could tolerate a lot, she really could. But a line must be drawn before everything and a thin one can have contrasts like no other. White can turn into black in a mere second by one wrong step. Or one too much.

“You’ve been acting so weird lately,” Lando said, standing on the opposite side of the room. Hands on his hips and a sour look on his face.

The photos and the rumors were enough to make her mad, though she decided to keep quiet until she saw him in person again. Now, that he was home, standing in front of her, she cornered him the moment he walked into the apartment. Instead of a sweet kiss he was greeted by red eyes and a mad woman.

It wasn’t the first thing he said, it wasn’t even the second or the third. But slowly, with every question following the last, his worry turned into annoyance. The jet lag taking a tool on him. All he wanted was to lie in bed with his girlfriend and cuddle until it was all over, but she wasn’t having it. She could tolerate a lot, but him overstepping the line with every rumor he doesn’t shut down and letting people believe what was not true and only feeding into their take on his reality even more was becoming too much.

“I’m acting weird? You’re being out more with this girl than your own girlfriend at this point,” she defended herself. Tears threatening to spill once more. Spilling more of her feelings than she ever meant to reveal.

“I’m with you every second I can get off from work. I take time off from my sleep to talk to you no matter how late it is, what are you talking about?” His voice got harsher the more he talked.

“You know how I feel about you hanging out with her so much,” she tried getting her point across. “You know it and still you go on vacation with her! Fucking vacation, Lando! I wasn’t even there, I was working and had to find out over fucking Instagram.”

“I told you, that I was going with friends and you were fine with that!”Lando stepped closer to you, his arms flying around the air with every word he spoke.

“I thought it would just be Max or so.”

“Why are you so god damn insecure?”

When you overstep that line it’s hard to get back, but it’s easy to notice. It’s easy to notice to everyone involved. Lando notices as his eyes go wide, filling with guilt, noticing his stupidity. He started stuttering and stumbling over his words, trying to fight his way back but she wouldn’t let him. Not like that.

“Oh, I’m sorry that I actually care about this relationship,” she said, walking past his frozen body and towards their bedroom. “Seems like I’m the only one.”

Flowers and chocolates in the morning wouldn’t get her to soften at the mere sight of it, Lando knew that. He needed something more, something better and more validating. Something that truly showed he cared about them. And when she walked into an empty apartment the next morning with flowers and chocolate decorating the dinner table, she knew it would just be the beginning of a very long week of putting down her lover.

Messages were next, hundreds of texts and even more little letters hidden away in pockets or on his pillow when she woke up alone once again. ‘I love you’s’ or ‘I hope you’re having a great day’. Sometimes little drawing were next to the words, and sometimes he left a flirty comment. But after all it were just written words, not spoken ones.

“Maybe you’re expecting too much?” One of her friends said as Y/n complained to her about the situation and how Lando seemed to still not have time for her. It even seemed like he was just more distant now. Maybe she was too much. Maybe she wanted too much for a woman in love with a racing driver.

“I just want to feel validated,” she confessed, taking another sip of her drink. “Is that really expected too much?”

Maybe she expected too much from the wrong person, she thought as she laid in bed that night.

“Lando,” she called out once she heard the door to their apartment open. Footsteps stopping for a moment to listen carefully if he’d just imagined her calling out to him or if it was real. When she repeated it he finally closed the door and stepped into the living room.

Seeing his girlfriend up at this hour with her laptop prepped up on her legs and working, the TV playing some show or movie in the background. Glasses on her face.

“Hey, baby,” he greeted her, walking up to her and kissing her head.

Looking over her shoulder to see the screen in front of her filled with work stuff. Stuff she assumed he was never interested in. Truth been told, he enjoyed listening to her talk about her job. It felt like a completely different life in contrast to his. Nothing there was filled with paparazzi or strict diets and work-out plans. She actually had time off. Colleagues she didn’t had to fight with in order to keep her job. Colleagues that were completely different people on and off track. For her, it was all one straight, maybe with some curbs or turns on the way, but never too many for her to get as impacted by it as he did.

“What are you working on?”

“Oh, nothing important. Just lousy work stuff.” Shutting the laptop as he sat down next to her, she put it away to turn to him fully. She didn’t want to loose him, she really didn’t. But some things were meant to be spoken out loud, no matter the outcome. “I wanted to talk to you, actually. That’s why I stayed up.”

“What about?” He threw an arm over her shoulders, pulling her closer and resting his lips on her hair.

“I knew, I couldn’t talk to you in the morning because you’d already be busy when I wake up and after training and everything you’d pack your stuff, game a bit and then get ready for bed early to get your plane tomorrow.” She took a deep breath, sitting up and looking at him properly. “I want you to be completely honest with me and I want you to know I will not hate you, OK?”

“Baby, you’re scaring me. What’s up?” Lando looked genuinely, sickly worried. Sitting up straight to show his concern, taking her hands in his.

“If you wanna break up with me, say it. I can’t take more distance or confusion. I just want clearance and if that is us breaking up, I think it’d be better than dancing around each other as if we’re just roommates or some shit.”

His whole face dropped at the proposal, she could see it all unfold in front of her. His jaw went slack, his eyes grew wider and it seemed like all of the colour left his face the moment her words were spoken. “No, no, no, no,” he quickly said, taking her shoulder and rushing out every word he could think of. “I - fuck, no. That was never even a thought I had. God, please don’t think that. I was just so busy with everything going on at the moment, you know. The potential Championship and having to show that I deserved that seat at McLaren. I don’t want you to think that, ever. OK?”

“I just thought, maybe you were getting bored of me. With all the other stuff happening around you.”

“I could never get bored of you.”

If only there was proof to his words. Proof she could rely on. She was supposed to trust him blindly, so why did it seem so unbearable now? The thought of relying solely on one person and their words. He said that now, but what would be in a few years? What would be after another holiday she couldn’t accompany him on? What would be after another long, drunk night in a club he was in alone? Without her. All because of work, all because she couldn’t go with him and had to stay home. All to keep their relationship hidden and safe from the public. Only that it was breaking behind the curtains.

“I don’t think I can go on like this any longer,” she finally said what had been on her mind for weeks now. “I love you, I really do. But I can’t help but think that maybe we aren’t meant to be together for longer than now.”

“You’re being ridiculous.”

“I’m being ridiculous?”

He had to be kidding, right? He had to. How was she being ridiculous in this moment? All she said was valid, right? Right?

“How can you firstly think, that I’m gonna get bored of you, when you’re literally the most interesting, funniest, most beautiful person, I’ve ever met. Secondly, I believe I have a word to say about this relationship and it’s future as well. I hated the thought of sharing you with the public and all it’s opinions. But the more I thought about it, I don’t hate showing you off.”

“Hold up.” She put her hands up to make him stop talking, looking at him directly and serious. “What are you trying to say? I’d like a short summary of the whole speech and all I haven’t yet heard, of course.”

“Of course,” he nodded with a smile on his face. “Y/n Y/l/n, I love you and if you’re willing to, I would like to make you my publicly known girlfriend.”

“I think I’m gonna faint actually,” she joked with a still rather straight face. “Are you being serious?”

“You can take Thursday and Friday off of work and come with me and Max on his private jet. Kelly said she missed you, so that would be the prefect opportunity for you to catch up and meet all the others. I’d be perfect,” he started rambling his already made up plan. A huge smile covering his face and excitement radiating from him not going unnoticed by no one. “What do you say?”

“I-,” she started talking, but quickly cleared her throat when her voice went an octave higher than normally. “Yeah, I’d love to. I’ve thought about it as well, actually. I know it could be hard, but I’m willing to go through that, with you.”

Capturing her lips with his, she knew this was worth it. The sole feeling of him against her was enough to make was between them worth fighting for. A simple touch and he made her feel whole, and vice versa.

Pulling away from his lips, she pointed her finger at him, “But I swear, you do something suspect and you can kiss my ass goodbye. I’m not kidding.”

“Me neither, baby. Me neither.”

[bonbonly]

i keep writing collegeau!f1 drivers, and honestly that has me thinking: (carlos, charles, max, lewis, daniel, lando and oscar! and this is sfw surprisingly lmfao)

→ carlos sainz is always out playing sports with his friends, but after a quick shower he will meet up with you in the library to study. he genuinely is really good about locking in, even if it's only for a few minutes and he manages to soak up all the information pretty fast. he's always willing to help you out, even if chooses to endlessly tease you if you get something wrong. he'll point out your mistakes, giving you more practice problems or drawing something on a board to visualize it for you. and while you do appreciate his help, it's hard to focus on the board when his hair shines like that under the light. you mutter some curses under your breath and get back to studying unaware that he secretly enjoys it when you get frustrated at him.

→ charles leclerc is awfully quiet at first and only shows up to piano rehearsals if you're there. he's very shy at first about his talent, but slowly opens up and let's you accompany him to classes and even recitals! he likes to laugh to himself if he messes up some notes, and loves when you'll lean forward to correct his fingers on the piano, his face just inches from yours. he just wishes you'd finally turn around to meet his expecting gaze, lips aching to be on yours. he plans on kissing you after his first major recital.

→ max verstappen and you both game regularly on the basis. whether it's in the computer lab, or at each others' dorms. he sometimes wishes you didn't just come to his dorm to hop on a game, but he appreciates every second he gets to spend time with you. when it comes to studying, both of you start off trying to lock in but it quickly turns into the both of you talking about how awful your professors are, or some funny story that happened to his friends. he likes to see you laugh, because it's when you really are yourself.

→ lewis hamilton likes to tag along with you when you're at karaoke events with your friends. he insists he can't sing, choosing to shy away from the spotlight. but after a couple drinks, and the way your hand wraps around his arm, tugging him to your warm body, he eventually gives in. the two of you spend most of the night screaming lyrics at each other and giggling hysterically when either of you mess up a line or two while singing. lewis swears he would love to live the rest of his like this with you.

→ daniel ricciardo ends up in your cooking class that you took solely because you needed a free elective. most of the class however is spent with dealing with his antics. he's tossing the flour at you, cracking the most awful jokes while cracking eggs (don't even ask) and all you can do is sit there and groan out loud. however, after a few classes, you realize that the class genuinely was boring and daniel was the only good thing about it. you'd sometimes grab his finished dishes and munch on it, which only causes him to lunge at you and now the both of you are on the ground laughing trying to explain to your professor why your casserole is now on the ground.

→ lando norris unfortunately decided to work at the university's daycare since all his money was going down at the clubs, and you show up to help him because you knew he was going to get overwhelmed. he was currently tackling a 3 year old who refused to let go of his curls, and you laugh out loud before running over to help him. when you manage to calm down the toddler and sing a few lullabies, lando's gaze softens and he can't help but secretly dream of having kids with you after you both graduate, having a small lovely family.

→ oscar piastri sits in the front of the class besides you. it's a hobby for the both of you to listen to the answers your peers give you, and turn around to give the nastiest side-eye ever. outside of class, the two of you laugh about what some of the responses were and you sometimes ask him if he ever judges you like that. he shakes his head, and says no. deep down, he wants to tell you that he thinks the world of you, but he keeps his mouth shut for now. what if you end up judging him instead?

[verstappensrealwife]

Casual (Part 2 of 2) - Max Verstappen x Reader

[max verstappen masterlist / lando norris masterlist / f1 masterlist]

ʚɞ in which... lando can't give her what she wants, but max can. ʚɞ fluff, smut  ⋆⭒˚.⋆ 3200 words ʚɞ warnings: ex!fwb!lando x reader (Part1), Austria GP '24, crash into lando, small smut at the end.

PART ONE HERE

Previously…

“Maxverstappen1 has requested to follow you.” “Maxverstappen1 has requested to message you.”

Your heart skipped a beat. Max, with his quiet confidence and genuine smiles, was a stark contrast to Lando’s fleeting attentions. You thought back to the brief conversations in stores, the way Max's eyes seemed to hold a depth of understanding, a kindness that Lando never showed. He had always treated you with respect, even in those short interactions, and now he was reaching out.

Curiosity and a spark of something you hadn’t felt in a long time—hope—bubbled up inside you. You hesitated for only a moment before accepting his follow request and opening his message.

“Hey, I hope you’re doing well. I was wondering if you’d like to grab a coffee sometime?”

The simplicity and sincerity of his message were refreshing. Max wasn’t playing games; he wasn’t hiding you or keeping you at arm’s length. As you read his words, you realized how much you craved that kind of straightforward, genuine connection.

In that moment, you knew you’d rather be with someone like Max—someone who saw you as more than just a fleeting distraction. You typed out a response, feeling a sense of anticipation and relief wash over you.

“Hi Max, I’d love to. When are you free?”

...

You continued to ignore Lando for a week before your date with Max.

Was it a date? You weren’t exactly sure.

Max looked incredibly handsome sitting across from you in the cozy corner of a cafe in Monaco. Outside, the rain poured down, casting the sky in a grey and gloomy shroud, while the warm lighting inside gave him a soft, inviting glow. You sipped from the mug in your hands, savoring the comforting warmth as you stole glances at him.

The cafe was a charming little place, filled with the comforting aromas of freshly brewed coffee and baked pastries. The walls were adorned with vintage art and photographs of Monaco’s picturesque coastline, while soft jazz played in the background, mingling with the quiet murmur of other patrons. The rain outside added a rhythmic percussion, making the inside feel even more like a warm, intimate refuge from the world.

Max's eyes, a striking shade of blue, seemed to reflect the dim light, making them look almost ethereal. You couldn’t help but notice the way his fingers drummed nervously against the table, a small but endearing gesture that made your heart flutter.

“So, uhm, does your boyfriend know we’re here?” Max asked, breaking the silence. You almost choked on your drink at his question, frowning in confusion.

“B-boyfriend?” you repeated, setting the mug down and staring into his eyes.

He shifted uncomfortably under your gaze, feeling the heat rise in his cheeks. God, you were pretty. “Lando? Is he not your boyfriend?”

You shook your head quickly, almost too quickly. Max hummed thoughtfully, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips. "Is that a good thing?" you asked, your curiosity piqued.

“Well, I’m glad, so I suppose it is,” he replied, his smile widening slightly.

“Oh, so you asked out a woman you believed was taken, Max?” you teased, a laugh escaping your lips.

Max chuckled, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “I guess I just couldn’t resist,” he said, his voice low and sincere. The sound of the rain pattering against the windows created a soothing backdrop to your conversation, the world outside forgotten as you both basked in the warm glow of the moment.

Conversation flowed effortlessly between the two of you, each word drawing you closer. Max listened intently as you spoke, his eyes never leaving your face, and when it was his turn, his stories and laughter held you spellbound. Time seemed to slip away unnoticed in the warm, inviting glow of the café.

By the end of the evening, around 5 pm, the rain had eased to a gentle drizzle, casting a magical shimmer on the streets. Max walked you back to your house, the quiet of the evening amplifying the lingering tension between you. The city felt almost enchanted in the soft twilight, the air fresh and clean after the rain.

When you reached your door, you turned to face him, your cheeks tinged with a soft blush. “Thanks for, uhm, walking me home,” you said sincerely, your eyes meeting his.

Max nodded, waving off your thanks as if it was nothing. “It’s fine. It’s on the way to my apartment anyway,” he said. You knew it was a lie—his apartment was in the complete opposite direction—but you didn’t call him out on it, appreciating the gesture. “This was nice…” he added, clearly reluctant to let the evening end and searching for a way to extend the moment.

“Yeah, it was,” you agreed, your lips curving into a grin. “We should do it again?” Your voice lifted at the end, making it sound more like a question than a statement.

“Yes! Ahem—yeah, totally,” he coughed, a flush creeping up his neck. “Sorry—erm—you could come to a race… if you’d want that—obviously no pressure but—”

“I’d love to,” you interrupted, placing your hand on his chest to stop his nervous rambling. The feel of his firm, muscular chest beneath your fingers sent a thrill through you. “Just text me any details, and I’ll be there.”

He nodded hurriedly, his excitement barely contained. “Of course, I’ll send you everything. The next race is in Austria,” he managed to say, his words tumbling over each other.

“See you later, Max,” you said, leaning in to kiss his cheek gently. His skin was warm under your lips, and he immediately went bright red, his flustered expression making you smirk. “Text me,” you repeated softly.

With one last smile, you turned and disappeared into your apartment building, leaving Max standing there, staring at the spot where you had been. His cheek tingled from where your lips had touched, and he couldn’t stop thinking about how he wanted that feeling every day, forever, with you. As he walked back to his apartment, his mind raced with thoughts of you, replaying every moment of the evening and imagining the possibilities of what could come next.

— AUSTRIA, RED BULL RING.    SUNDAY, 30 JUNE 2024.

Race day had finally arrived. You’d just gotten to the paddock that morning, the familiar roar of engines and the scent of burning rubber filling the air. It felt strange being back, especially without someone rushing you away from prying eyes, trying to hide the fact you were there with Lando. This time, you walked freely down the pit lane, no longer shadowed by secrecy.

You caught a glimpse of the back of Max’s head up ahead, his distinct figure standing out among the flurry of activity. But before you could call out to him, you heard your name being shouted from behind. Startled, you spun around to see Lando jogging toward you, his eyes wide with a mixture of surprise and something else you couldn’t quite place.

“You got my texts?” Lando asked, slightly breathless as he stopped in front of you. “I thought you wouldn’t come, but… anyway, do you wanna go away from here? Talk?”

For a moment, you just stared at him, processing the unexpected encounter. No, you didn’t have feelings for him anymore, but seeing him again like this, especially in such a familiar setting, was still a bit of a shock. His presence stirred memories you thought you’d left behind.

“I—uhm,” you stuttered, searching for the right words to tell him to leave you alone, to fuck off, really, but the words tangled on your tongue. “Well—”

“Come on,” Lando urged, his voice softer, almost pleading, as he took a step closer. His hand reached out, as if to gently guide you by the arm, but you instinctively flinched backward, the movement sharp and defensive.

“Y/N?” Lando frowned, confusion clouding his features. He dropped his hand, the space between you suddenly feeling like a chasm. The familiarity in his tone, the way he said your name—it tugged at something inside you, but it wasn’t enough to erase the hurt or the reasons you were no longer together.

“I’m not here with you, Lando…” you say quietly, trying to keep your voice steady. “I was invited by someone else.”

“Someone else?” he stutters, his expression flickering with disbelief. “You… who?”

Before you can answer, Lando’s eyes shift behind you, catching sight of Max Verstappen approaching with purposeful strides. The realization seems to dawn on him just as Max reaches you, his hand naturally resting on your shoulder as if it belonged there.

“When did you get here?” Max asks, his tone warm and completely ignoring Lando’s presence. It’s not malicious, but his focus is entirely on you, making Lando seem like an afterthought.

“About three hours ago,” you reply with a smile, feeling a sense of comfort wash over you.

“I could’ve picked you up,” Max offers, his concern genuine, though you quickly wave him off.

“Don’t be silly,” you say lightly before turning to Lando, who is still staring at the two of you, visibly confused and almost… jealous. “Yeah—Lando—Max sort of invited me.”

Lando’s brows knit together, his confusion deepening. “What—huh—sorry, what?” he stammers. “When did you two get so close?” His eyes dart between you and Max, searching for answers he can’t seem to find.

You shrug, trying to keep your tone casual. “Erm, like a month or so ago…”

The connection clicks in Lando’s mind—the timeline of when you stopped speaking to him and when you started getting close to Max. The realization seems to sting, his lips pressing into a thin line as he hums in acknowledgment before shaking his head and walking away without another word.

“That was… weird,” Max mutters, watching Lando’s retreating figure for a moment before his attention snaps back to you. He quickly changes the subject, eager to make you feel at ease. “Come on, let me show you the garage. It’s the best place to watch the race.”

“The garage?” you ask, confused by his offer.

Max frowns slightly, equally perplexed. “Where else would you watch it from?”

“I—well, usually in the drivers’ room,” you admit with a sigh, memories of hidden moments flashing through your mind.

Max scoffs, clearly unimpressed. “Of course, he would do that,” he mumbles under his breath, before focusing on you again. “I mean, you can if you want to, but here is fine by me. You’ll be right in the heart of everything.”

You nod, silently agreeing to watch the race from the garage, knowing full well that all the cameras would catch you there, recording every move and fueling speculation about who you were. But this time, you didn’t mind. Max’s presence beside you made you feel secure, as if you belonged right there in the spotlight with him.

After the race, the atmosphere in the paddock was tense, the energy electric with the aftermath of Max’s crash into Lando. Lando made it painfully clear how furious he was, his frustration palpable in every gesture and word. Max, on the other hand, seemed remarkably unfazed by the whole ordeal. He’d still managed to finish in the points and, in his mind, had taken a small victory by ruining Lando’s race in the process. For Max, it was a win-win.

As the crowd buzzed with post-race excitement, Max spotted you standing by the edge of the garage, waiting for him. Despite the chaos around him, seeing you brought a smile to his face. He didn’t have much time before he had to face a swarm of interviewers, but he made a beeline for you, nudging your arm gently to grab your attention.

“Hey,” he said, his voice soft but laced with satisfaction.

“Oh—hey!” You turned, grinning up at him. “P5 is good,” you said, your eyes sparkling with pride for him.

“Maybe for Lando’s standards,” Max jabbed jokingly, a mischievous glint in his eye.

You laughed, the sound light and infectious, easing some of the tension that still hung in the air. “You’re terrible,” you teased, shaking your head, but the warmth in your voice made it clear you didn’t mean it.

Max chuckled, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer than necessary. “I’ll take that as a compliment,” he replied, his tone playful. The way he looked at you made your heart skip a beat, and for a second, the noise of the paddock faded into the background, leaving just the two of you in your own little bubble.

He glanced over his shoulder at the waiting throng of journalists, his smile dimming slightly. “I’ve got to go handle those vultures,” he sighed, nodding toward the waiting press. “But I’ll find you after?”

You nodded, your heart swelling with anticipation. “I’ll be here.”

“Good,” he said, giving your arm one last, gentle squeeze before turning to walk away. As he headed toward the media, you watched him go, feeling a mix of pride and excitement. Even after everything that had happened on the track, Max was still the same—unflappable, confident, and now, undeniably connected to you in a way that felt both thrilling and right.

-

After the whirlwind of interviews, Max finally managed to break away from the paddock's relentless pace. The sun had set by the time he made his way back to his hotel, the darkening sky mirroring the calm that was beginning to settle over him. His thoughts, however, weren’t on the race or the questions he had just faced—they were on you.

When he entered his hotel room, it was quiet and dimly lit, a stark contrast to the loud, chaotic energy of the racetrack. He felt a weight lift off his shoulders as he closed the door behind him. He had texted you on his way back, a simple message asking if you’d come over. Now, as he stood in the middle of the room, his nerves started to creep in. There was something different about tonight, something he couldn’t quite put into words, but it was there, lingering in the air.

The knock at the door came just as he was running a hand through his hair, trying to settle his thoughts. He crossed the room in a few quick strides, opening the door to find you standing there, a soft smile on your face. You were a sight for sore eyes, the tension he’d been holding onto dissipating at the mere sight of you.

“Hi,” he greeted, stepping aside to let you in.

“Hey,” you replied, slipping past him into the room. You glanced around, taking in the minimalist decor and the soft, ambient light that bathed the space in a warm glow. “Nice place,” you commented lightly, but your eyes soon found his, and the room seemed to shrink around you.

Max didn’t respond immediately; instead, he just watched you, his gaze intense and unwavering. It was like he was seeing you for the first time all over again, but this time, with the clarity of everything that had happened today. Finally, he took a step closer, his hand reaching out to brush a strand of hair behind your ear. The touch was light, almost hesitant, but it sent a shiver down your spine.

“I’m glad you’re here,” he said softly, his voice low and sincere.

You looked up at him, your heart beating a little faster. “Me too,” you admitted, the words coming out as barely more than a whisper.

For a moment, neither of you moved, the air thick with unspoken tension. Then, as if some invisible line had been crossed, Max leaned in, his lips brushing yours in a tentative kiss. It was slow, unhurried, as if he was savoring the moment, the taste of you, the feel of you against him. When he pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, his breath warm on your skin.

“I’ve been thinking about this all day,” he confessed, his hands finding their way to your waist, pulling you closer.

You smiled against his lips, your hands sliding up to rest on his chest. “So have I,” you whispered, your voice trembling slightly with the weight of the admission.

Max’s response was a low, rumbling laugh that you felt more than heard. He kissed you again, this time with more urgency, the restraint from earlier slipping away. His hands roamed your back, pulling you even closer until there was no space left between you. The kiss deepened, becoming a desperate, hungry exchange that left you both breathless.

Without breaking the kiss, Max began to guide you toward the bed, his movements careful but insistent. When the backs of your legs hit the edge of the mattress, he paused, pulling back just enough to look into your eyes. There was a question in his gaze, a silent request for permission, for reassurance that this was what you wanted too.

You answered him by tugging him down onto the bed with you, your lips crashing back into his as you both fell into the soft sheets. Max let out a soft groan as he followed your lead, his hands finding your hips as he pressed against you. The world outside the room faded away, leaving just the two of you, lost in each other.

Time seemed to blur as clothes were discarded and soft whispers filled the room. Max’s touch was reverent, his kisses trailing down your body, worshipping every inch of you. There was an urgency in the way he held you, a need that had been building up ever since that first kiss in the paddock.

When he finally moved to join your bodies together, he did so with a slow, deliberate push that left you both gasping for breath. His name slipped from your lips in a soft moan, a sound that drove him wild. He buried his face in the crook of your neck, his breath hot against your skin as he began to move, each thrust deep and measured.

“Y/N,” he breathed out, his voice strained with the effort to keep himself in check. “You feel… incredible.”

Your hands found his hair, tugging gently as you arched into him, meeting his movements with equal fervor. The tension that had been building between you all day finally reached its breaking point, and with one final, desperate thrust, you both finished together, your cries mingling in the stillness of the room.

Afterward, as you both lay tangled in the sheets, your bodies slick with sweat, Max pulled you close, his arms wrapping around you as if he never wanted to let go. You rested your head on his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat as you both tried to catch your breath.

“Stay with me tonight,” he murmured, his voice heavy with exhaustion but laced with a quiet plea.

You looked up at him, your eyes meeting his in the dim light. “I wasn’t planning on leaving,” you replied softly, earning a tired but contented smile from him.

Max kissed the top of your head, his grip on you tightening just a fraction. “Good,” he whispered, his eyes drifting closed. “I don’t want this to end.”

As you lay there in the quiet of the night, wrapped in his arms, you couldn’t help but feel the same. Whatever this was between you and Max, it felt right, like something that had been a long time coming.

-----

tags :

@herexpertcollector @bingussthirdtoe @boady27 @some-girl-lost-in-this-world @iangelofmusic @abq654 @issi-loves-dannyric @f1fantasys @smoooothoperatorrrr @prudyhoo @0rrphiic @gaypoetsblog @bloodymug @tpwkstiles @forza-dolce @piceous21 @iforgotmynames @jzr201