#watch out he might…win a race

[aaron04jpg]

Reblog to scare Helmut Marko and Christian Horner

[chussyracing]

i'm the last person from negative but the state of the sport and the fandom both is absolutely horrendous.

[screampied]

#OOHMAMI! g. suguru

☆ sum. cuban link, diamond cross—you’re a big fan of suguru geto, the top street racer in tokyo. he doesn’t wanna win any more races, he wants to win you this time. keep at it and he might have to fuck you on the highway.

wc. 5.7k

warnings. fem! reader, street racer! geto, pwp, unprotected, suguru has a (dick) piercing / tats, semi-public, riding, brief ōral (f! receiving), you get eaten out his window lol, overstim, dirty talk, praise, size kink, impact play, petnames, drive safe, continuation here :)

an. chase atlantic inspired me ¯\_(ᵕ—ᴗ—)_/¯

“you, yeah you. wanna ride?”

stop thinking dirty, stop thinking dir—

you stop dead in your tracks, hearing the deafening vrooming of a certain nissan skyline gtr along with a raspy deep voice. you knew that voice, in fact you’d be a fool not to recognize the voice of the suguru geto, infamous street racer who’s won more races around the world than you could count. he’s got a big hand on the steering wheel with his dark purple helmet cracked open. growing pathetically sheepish, you could barely get any words out before you start to feel your feet gradually dragging toward his rumbling car.

“really?” you mumble, barely even pressed up against his tinted window and you could smell his loud rich cologne from there. you couldn’t help but fangirl—and oh, did he look so much better in person. geto’s got pretty long tresses of black hair that’s usually down, but in every race it’s always pinned back. a few loose strands run down his face, peeking out of his helmet and his glove grips tightly against his bedazzled steering wheel that had ‘s. geto’ carved into the material as it flawlessly spiraled around the wheel.

“reaaally,” he tauntingly repeats your word, cocking his head to get a better look at you. you could smell the thick puffed smoke that weeps out of his silvery flashy tailpipes and he hums. slouching back against his seat manspread, his foot eases off from the break and you watch as the flashy racer’s seat flies open on its on, and you step in. “i take it you’re here to see the race?”

no, no you weren’t.

you couldn’t lie to yourself—you were here to see the race, but you were to here to see geto also. you’ve only seen him during his interviews, magazines, and sometimes on tv where his races would be broadcasted for the entire world to see.

but, you managed to snag enough money to actually see him in the flesh.

without a second thought you make your way inside. on the inside, you were screaming. you were currently living every one of his fangirl’s dream. immediately once you sit down, you’re surrounded by the balmy welcoming warmth of his beloved str. you assumed it was an older model but he made it work anyway — it had cushioned seats with blaring speakers and oh, the smell . . it’s almost as if the vehicle had a signature cologne scent of its self. it’s really masculine and it makes your thighs squeeze together once you recline back a bit. his seats warmed up your backside automatically and you glance around the rest of the car, taking in its glitzy beauty.

it’s pretty, you’ve only seen pictures. ogling near his rear view mirror, you see fuzzy dice dangling as he’s adjusting it. the rest of the cars usually gathered near the meet up spot before the race actually starts.

“she’s pretty, isn’t she?” geto snickers, noticing you gawking at the inside of his car.

indeed, you heard about how geto built this entire thing from scratch. before doing street racing as a little side hustling hobby, he used to be a mechanic. a well known one, but that wasn’t as fun as actually racing.

geto tosses an arm behind the head rest of your seat, preparing to go in reverse. “had her for about two years. haven’t lose a match, since.”

“not one?” you murmur, wanting to call his bluff. sure, you’ve never seen anyone covering him losing a match but that was a bit hard to believe.

“doubtin’ me, sweetheart?” he rasps, and you feel the rough jittering of the car. geto’s backing up safely, curving his wheel briefly to drive out of one of his many garages.

sweetheart, you don’t know why but that single pet name had you feeling hot for a moment. once your eyes dart back toward him for a split second, you spot a toothpick sticking out from the corner of his crooked lips. he’s so pretty — he’s got a natural smirk that’s tugging against the corners of his lips. as he starts to drive toward the starting point for the highly anticipated race, a gloved thumb taps against his furry steering glimmering wheel. with a low hum, he glances at you. “seatbelt, silly girl.”

shit, you snap on your seat belt moments later and notice even his signature’s all over his seatbelt covers. ‘suguru geto’ in bright bold letters.

drafty air wafts against your skin as he’s still creating distance with just a few miles. once he reaches near the starting line, you hear his foot tapping against the break.

one, two, three . . three, two, one . . he’s bored.

geto positions his rear view mirror for the millionth time before noticing you zeroing your eyes at his gear shift that glistens from the dozens of rhinestones that glue against the cover. countless diamonds stick up and down the leather skin of the handle and it’s so pretty.

“hold on, sweetheart,” geto purrs, his eyes slowly locking onto the flagger that’s stood in front of the row of cars.

geto’s still got a firm hand gripped onto his wheel, his right foot just barely hovering over the gas. come on, he just wanted to get it over with. you could almost smell the competitiveness dripping from his body.

it was intense, you could almost feel the anticipation as if you were in the driver’s seat. the tall woman that’s dressed in nothing but sheer black carries a hefty checked flag, swaying it in the air every few seconds. as she safely spaces herself between the cars, she does it two more times and you realize it’s almost time for take off.

the cars that were lined up beside and next to geto start to rev their engines and so does he. it’s a roaring groan, and his rousing wheels burn into the hardened cement, his gold pipes coughing up clouds of purple smoke. geto gives his wheel one more tap with his thumb before glancing at you with a cunning grin. “lie back, i take off pretty fast, heh.”

and he wasn’t kidding.

the moment the flagger does a final up-down sway motion with the flag, all race cars accelerate quickly past the starting point. you sink back into the plushy seat as he meanly yanks back his stick shift.

his engine’s loud, and within seconds he’s already in the lead. it’s like he wasn’t even trying. frantic turbo spits through his rusted pipes and you can feel his car speedily pass through each poor vehicle that tries to get in his way.

vroooooom, he’s flying by each checkpoint and you could almost smell the adrenaline that’s coursing through his pulsating veins.

the thrill . .

you felt it all ghost through your own veins, feeling the frigid air roaming through his vents tickle against the hairs that stand up on your arms. geto makes a few sharp turns, keeping an eye on the time every so often. his personal best was around five minutes and seventy-seven seconds. with a coarse grip, he’s tilting his steering wheel while the thunder of his engine growls louder and louder within each whizzing mile.

over time though—you can’t help but be a bit nosy. your eyes shift toward the racer and god, you’re just now noticing how handsome he was.

geto usually wore sweats along with his street gear. he didn’t have to wear his helmet but he preferred it just in case. its all black with a splash of purple—you can see his signature lazily signed near the very top. outlined beside his name was a curling design of smoke. the part where he sees through was all darkly tinted so you could hardly see his face unless you squinted or he took it off.

it’s like it added more to his appeal in a way. he sat manspread and doing so, it gave you a one way ticket to stare straight down at his barely hidden bulge.

fuck, your mind started to ponder. you had so many unanswered questions. isn’t it painful driving around that hard—

“hey,” your raunchy thoughts get rudely interrupted and you don’t even realize how many minutes had passed from you being cooped up in your own lewd fantasm. geto’s driving a bit slower now, around sixty mph instead of his usual two hundred. he’s way in the lead, first place. one hand’s lazily on the steering wheel and he fakes a yawn.

oh he’s cocky.

with a quick glance out his mirror, he knew the other cars were far behind him and he now starts drifting near the freeway. with an intrigued hum, he notices just exactly what you were staring at. his lap. “don’t tell me this was the ride you thought i meant, sweetheart.”

“i—”

it’s like his cologne got louder.

you choked on your words, wondering if you were hearing right. suguru, the suguru geto was flirting with you?

and the thing that got you the most was that he wasn’t even looking at you anymore—every few seconds, you’d lock eyes against him near the ear view mirror, feeling hot once his eyes slowly rove down your figure through his dark tinted helmet.

not only was his cologne loud but so were your thoughts—shamelessly, you did think he was referring to that kind of ride minutes earlier.

and the more you stared at his hardened bulge through his grey sweats, the more you started to think. .

but, little did you know your dirty wish would be granted.

not even a few moment later, you’d find yourself fucked - literally.

geto positions you on his lap, halfway pulling down his loose sweats just so you could ride something else entirely.

instead of riding just his car — you rode his dick, and fuck was he just ridiculously big.

too big, and he knows it. geto groans once he’s buried full inside, lodging his thick cock in between your slimy gummy walls. “shit,” he’d hiss, his head occasionally tossing back once the ring piercing that’s stuck on his tip tap tap tap’s away against your precious g-spot. it swirls all around the inside of your cunt and your thighs struggled to stay open. it tickles, but you were far from laughing. he’s so big, easily rearranging your insides and be barely even had to move a muscle.

he’s ruthless - but your hips were even more ruthless though, far more.

geto knew all too well that this was dangerous—just one swerve from the swerving stimulation of bodies smacking against his and game fucking over.

you moan, burying your face into his neck as your hips continue to move against him. he’s still burning gas as your cunt’s just merrily drooling all down his length from each slapping thrust.

belatedly, your brows furrow, almost forgetting why you even showed up to this event. well, part of why you came. “f- fuck, what about t- the race?” you speak in a breathy tone, your tempo becoming more and more relentless. the salaciously enticing jerk of your unsteady hips gradually turn into rough unstable bounces and he kisses his teeth. geto feels the convulsing veins that run down his cock pulse right through him and between your walls, you feel it too.

“oh, sweetheart,” he huffs, his back of his helmet hitting against his headrest. looking at you with hazy hooded eyes, he flashes you a sleazy grin. “technically, i already won,” and you gasp, feeling him reach a gloved hand down between your rickety thighs. his touch was so gentle, you felt yourself shuddering from both twin digits that drag further down your chest. he cups one of your bouncing tits that pop out of your tank top, brushing a thumb against your sensitive nipple. “god, what a pretty fuckin’ body. look at you girl,” and he’s still got a hand on the steering wheel.

a trembling whimper dies out your throat at the feeling of his swollen fat cockhead vigorously thrusting in and out of your dribbling entrance.

you’re just so soaked. it’s like you can’t help but be sopping wet on his lap and he loves it. sloshes of sobs echo out of your pussy and your legs pathetically quaver directly on top of him.

both of you groan in complete unison and a big hand of his creeps further down, giving your ass a teasing squeeze. “fuuucck, reel those nasty hips. ride it baby, ride me, yeah,” and you hear the grumbling revs of his engine ring against your ears louder. it makes the entire car shake a bit despite him pushing down a few miles. with widened dewy eyes staring at the back of his car, you squint, seeing dozens of cars trying to catch up to geto.

they didn’t have a chance,

they looked like tiny splotching dots in the far distance. geto even had the audacity to not do his usual speed and yet he was still dusting the other racers.

typical.

“s- suguru,” you whine, the undersides of your thighs sticking against him. each time you bounced back on his cock, each ruthless ‘pap pap pap’ of your skin mashing against his and the clingy recoil never fails to leave you brain dead for a few seconds. he’s so thick. you swivel your hips around him, gasping every time his dick piercing scrapes against your clit. the cold material makes a good portion of your thighs quake and you can’t help but coo out a few sweet ‘ooh’ or ‘ah’s right next to the shell of his ear. your panties were lazily shoved to the side and he didn’t even bother taking them off.

yet.

“so fuckin’ big, shiiiit.” you’d whimper, trying to swerve your way all around him. he’s just too big, you were even surprised he fit. you had to go down slow, aligning yourself against him — every few seconds his cock would pop out of you, making that cute squelch sound that makes his suck his teeth in annoyance.

“mhm, ‘n you’re takin’ it so well. you’re a big girl, fuckin’ take it,” he rasps in a hushed tone, nipping a few teeth near the inside of your neck. his helmet along with his toothpick ends up falling near the side of his seat with a loud thud.

your hips were killer.

unlike any opponent he’s had to go up against. you’re happily squeezing around him like a vice, taking in his curved inches like a champ. “f- fuck, who taught you how ‘ta ride? heh, tryna give me a run for my money, hm pretty?”

your whiny moans only pitch louder once he grips a nice chunk of your ass with one hand, peering at his bedazzled dash. the speed was a bit over one fifty now but it didn’t even feel like it.

“ugh, ‘m gonna cum,” you gasp, growing more and more dumb the faster you bounced on his heavy throbbing cock. his peeling sack hangs from underneath and he’s so swollen, you feel it.

maddened angry balls entirely reddened and puffed up from the delicious stimulation. with every sharp pull of your hips bouncing up and down, he feels himself shriveling — he’s so sensitive inside of you, and he can almost taste his own pleasure. whilst you continue to twirl your ass around in rotation for him, you couldn’t help but shamelessly salivate at the thought of imagining just how full he might be.

“sugu—fuuuckk,” and a bead of sweat races down the side of your face. geto’s primarily focusing on the road, it’s an easy straight shot and with how it was practically the middle of the night it wasn’t that many cars except for the one’s participating in the annual street races.

“bet you are. sloppy girl,” he huffs, groaning at the echoing loud smacks of your ass. you’re mercilessly clamping down his lap over and over, preparing to gush all over the dick that’s currently nestled inside of you. he’s got such a mouth watering curve of his cock that makes your stomach twist and churn.

the kind of curve that doesn’t involve his motor vehicle, that kind.

geto’s dick knew how to do swerves on its own, it even knew how to carve an entire bumpy race track allllll through your insides with his fat pink tip. “touch yourself, pretty. gimme a show before you mess up my fuckin’ seats.”

you could hear the sass in his voice along with a drip of vex and you’d giggle if you weren’t being ruthless stuffed full of inches. “o- okay,” you breathe through clenched teeth, guiding your hands up and down your body. geto’s dark eyes stare at you intently.

he stared at the way your hands caress your pretty plump tits, feeling down the valley of your exposed chest. his eyes flicker toward you then back at the road, then at you again - he repeats it, feeling his own muscles starting to tighten through his clothing. “ngh, suguru. can’t hold—”

your addictive slams against his cock got more intense until he’s fully buried balls deep inside of your squeezing cunt. you hear the saturated plops that’s squealing out of your pussy and you can’t even believe that’s you that’s sounding like that.

your poor sweet cunt was louder than his radio, completely shrieking over some random chorus of a heavy metal song you didn’t even know was playing in the background.

“fuck, cum then. cum on me, girl,” he grunts, one hand grabbing a nice fat piece of your ass again before spanking it.

you moan, the sharp brief twinge of elation sending you a shiver that immediately sends convulses between your thighs. lewd filthy thoughts foil at your brain and pretty soon, the car steams up with steamy clouded fog.

erratic sharp breaths match each other’s pace and you’re left breathless. geto feels your legs on the verge of giving out and he snickers, bringing a gloved hand to stroke against your sopping pussy. “go on, don’t be shy. should make ya lick up the mess later anyway.”

whimpering, your release comes and fuck, a sharp scream ripples out from your throat once you’re finally coming undone on his cock. the wrinkled skin of his base continues to stick against his sack due to you bouncing against him.

it’s hot, literally.

with both plush mounds of skin harshly plummeting on top of each other, the heat of the car made it feel like the air conditioner wasn’t even on. “thaaat’s it, work those hips, goddamn,” and abruptly, he cuts off from his words after feeling his mushroom tip reach a certain spongey spot that’s buried way inside of your gripping walls.

you gasp once you feel him throb inside with a soft upward shimmy of his hips. milliseconds later, your thighs collapse down on him and you feel yourself succumbing. you’re creaming down his shaft with your slippery slick while at the very same time, struggling to catch your breath. as you weakly try to continue your grinding with your feeble knees, geto uses a single hand to quickly make a detour.

he was close.

the race car makes a swift turn to the left lane, driving a few more miles before he then turns the opposite direction — pulling over safely. with a cooing skrrrrt, his rubber tires come to a cruising stop and geto groans, gripping at his tensing bouncing thigh with his glove. the finish line was just a few feet away but he could care less.

once he puts his car in park, geto falls back into his seat with own sable dark eyes flickering back to the very depths of his skull.

you rode him good, good to the point where he doesn’t even know what to say for a hot second. blinking twice, geto smears his glossed lips together before exhaling, “phew,” and he swats another palm against your ass. black unkempt strands of hair tape against the center of forehead like glue whilst he’s finally got a good grip on your hips. “fuck, ‘m gonna cum too,” and your puffy folds continue to dribble with honeyed slick.

you’re damping his cock and the squelches you make, they were loud.

so wet and slimy. he could listen to it all day, just the sound of your sweet cunt whimpering out sweet sloshes of nothing. the overwhelming sensitivity leaves a sourly candied taste in your mouth and you whine, feeling him squeeze a hand against your right hip. with a raspy out of breath tone, he strokes a thumb underneath your quivering bottom lip. “ ‘s okay if i cum inside, pretty?”

“y- yeah, please,” you babble out in broken cries, feeling your tummy frantically heave in and out.

as he grabs your hips, steadying you—you intake a breath, remembering how many inches he was buried inside. your tummy tucks inward and you whimper, feeling him preparing to shoot pure blanks. with a size like his, geto’s cock never failed to leave its sloppy infamous mark.

you’re just marveled at how fat his tip is, it’s voluntarily french-kissing up against sweet beloved cervix that’s screaming out curses just as much as you. he’s got two hands on your veering hips, smooth fabric of his racing gloves sliding up and down your wobbly. with pouty compressed lips, you moan, bringing your hands to grab onto his shoulders. “cum, cum in me—fuck.”

geto huskily groans, tossing his head back once your hips zealously reel into him right as he gives you the final perfunctory thrust that finishes him off. immediately, he’s shooting out ribbons of hot cum that pour into you. you’re panting as he slows down, glossy eyes raking at his body. you could see a bit of his tatted sleeves peek from underneath his shirt - his tense muscles bulging.

“god, better take all of it,” he groans, pretty black lashes sticking against his droopy hooded sockets.

it spurts out slowly but surely.

globs and globs of frothy cum bubble down the swollen sides of his cock and you feel it all. it’s toasty and warm and as he’s pouring his all into you, painting your gummy walls his pristine-white color, you couldn’t help but lean in.

geto’s matching your breathy irregular pants before he feels your trembling lips crash onto his. “mmf,” he moans against your lips, tilting his head back slightly to a certain attractive degree. a hand of his reaches toward his radio, turning the middle notch all the way down just to hear the squelches of his own seed slobbering down your slick cunt.

he tastes sweet. you moan at the lingering taste of fresh cooling mint that lives on his tongue, feeling his hands tighten around your waist.

oh, he’s obsessed—

screw the race by this point, all he wanted at this moment was you.

geto’s still got such a large load that’s dumping into you raw and it even oozes down past your thighs, a few creamy droplets plopping down on his velvet seats. he grunts, both twisting tongues ferociously tangling against each other whilst your pussy’s still squeezing down on him like a vice. a glossed translucent ring forms around his base and he feels you trying to touch yourself with two curious fingers.

with a slight smack, he swats your hand away and you whine in his mouth. “heh, hands to yourself,” you pout because earlier he let you touch yourself but now, no. he teases, breaking away from the hot kiss. a stringy cobweb of saliva tears back from both lax plump lips before he playfully nibbles on your chin. geto notices how slumped out you were and a broad open hand of his crawls between your legs. “ooooh,” and he lifts you up from his swollen flaccid cock, gazing at just how much of a fill he’s pumped into you. “well look at that,” and you whimper, feeling him strum a thumb down your drooling cunt. “would be a shame if it all went to waste,” then he quirks a brow, sliding a tongue across his lips. “princess, stick your head out the window for me real quick.”

“out the wind—”

and not even seconds later, you find yourself literally being bent over, halfway hanging out of his rolled down tinted window. geto wasn’t done, at least not yet.

your sheeny glossed lips immediately part into an ‘o’ as a sweet gasp leaves your lips. with clammy hands, they grip onto the edge of his window and you whimper once he delves his long tongue inside of your cunt. your fingers gripped against the window so hard that it ends up leaving dozens of your cute fingerprints against the tinted glass.

“oh my goddd,” you babble out in elongated sweet syllables. with your pretty eyes bulging, you gasp at feeling the tip of his tongue swirl all around inside of you.

geto lowly grunts, lapping his twitching pink muscle down your runny folds back and forth. between your legs—he’s a menace, and it was no prying him off.

at all.

he doesn’t even bat an eye at the simple fact that he’s eating his own cum out of you, unapologetically savoring the bittersweet taste that lands right on his flavored tastebuds. your legs were so weak and you can feel his warm breath continuously fan against and on your sopping folds as he chuckles.

“my my, look at her. this prize’s way better than some money,” he hums, using a leather thumbed glove to swipe down your entrance. he’s slow, dragging it all the way down just to watch spurts of your slick pop onto his digit. you’re just so wet, metallic fingers of his ghost further down your clit before you whine. geto sees your cunt pulsing from the sheer thrill and he snickers, smacking a palm right against your slobbering core. “she’s fuckin’ nasty today, yeah?” and his eyes flicker toward your drooling cunt, giving it a teasing suck. “mmph, listen to her with me, gorgeous,” and one spank against your pussy turns into one, then two, then three.

growing quiet, you listen to the weeping sounds purring out of your own cunt. so loud, so shamelessly loud. you could hear it and he barely even had to touch you. you’re drenching up his seats and you couldn’t help but bite your lip, feeling your heart pound ruthlessly out your chest. his tongue knew just where to go—it’s creating a path of its own, laying flat against your clit before sucking against every tender spot. your legs were on its final hinges. you felt like they were about to snap shut. you’re staring out the window, still not seeing any cars which was good.

if anyone saw you like this, being eaten out in this kind of position, you don’t know what would happen.

geto resumes to flick his long tongue down your swollen slit, lapping up the last few droplets of his own cum that tries to dribble down the crevices of your thighs. another final swat from his mean palm sets against your clit and you let off a cute squeal, your tummy instinctively caving in. “so much back talk from a pussy this fuckin’ sloppy. oughta teach it some manners, pretty girl,” he grumbles, and your eyes blissfully roll back once you hear him starting to sluuuurp.

geto had no shame — it was decided, this was far better than any race he’s ever had.

his teeth nip near the inside corners of your thighs before he trails back to munching on your clit, burying his nose deep. “mhm,” he groans, and it only takes a few seconds before his jaw finally locks. geto reaches down, giving his cock a few solid pumps. his pretty reddened tip was angry, it still had dried spurts of cum racing from the sides and he grunts at the memory of being inside of you only just a few minutes ago. whilst his face’s shoved right between your thighs—you don’t even realize you’re trying to reach back to grab onto his hair. you’re hesitant though, and he finds it cute. departing his wet slick lips briefly, a wry grin spreads against his lips. “kinky,” the dark haired man flicks a tongue across his lips, savoring your juices that smeared against his mouth. “don’t be shy. do it,” and you moan once he teasingly whistles against your pussy, kissing against your nub. “pull my hair girl. pull.”

you give it a good yank and his head pushes forward into you—geto’s lengthy tongue dips further inside your cunt and you whimper, gnawing the inside of your stiff jaw. “fuck,” you gasp, and as his tongue gradually curls various bubbly letters inside of your pussy.

it multitasks, continuing to send your entire body a plethora of fluttering butterflies. he was so sloppy, seeping from the corners of his mouth with your slick and just your slick. his head moving side to side eagerly and every few seconds, he’s got to flick away long shaggy strands of his hair. geto’s proudly devouring you entirely whilst you’re just literally hanging out his window.

“oh, come on. harder, sweetheart. even i can do better than tha—ngh.”

with more force, you tug roughly on his pretty black strands and you heard the most sluttiest moan pour from his lips. god, he was so close that you could literally feel that infamous smug grin spread against his lips. geto brings a fat round thumb to run down your drooling cunt, giving it a ‘good job’ kiss. “atta girl. that’s my girl.”

geto ends up coaxing orgasm after orgasm out of over and over and over again.

he’s mean with his tongue, slurping everything out of you until you had no more - nothing more to coal his chin with. his favorite thing to do was to playfully bite against your clit, feeling you writhe and shiver all because of his mouth.

you end up leaving his entire chin with a pretty stream of your syrupy slick. geto’s panting, falling back after talking you through your nth orgasm, and with a peek through his rear view mirror, he spots the remaining race cars that were finally approaching the finish line.

“ah, about time,” geto rolls his eyes, sliding his lips near the corner of his chin where a bit more of your slick laid.

he acted like it was nothing, like he didn’t just have his tongue shoved inches deep inside of your cunt, stuffing his race gloved fingers in and out of you until you gushed right down his lengthy thick digits. you’re just sat on his lap, and you’re too dumb to move an inch. “heh, comfy?” he purrs, dragging his seatbelt across both stacked bodies. you fall against his chest, inhaling his signature manly scent and feel the car jolt once he puts it back in drive.

needy silence was your only reply and he tsks, resting his chin on top of your head before driving toward the finish line. it was barely even a few feet away, and waiting there was a bunch of fans that were awaiting to greet their new winner.

geto couldn’t care less though—he had you on his lap and he could already feel himself bulging again.

he found it cute how you were just clinging onto him now.

maybe you were delusional—maybe it was the fangirl in you screaming, begging for more, but your body wasn’t just begging anymore, it ached for more.

he drives you back toward the car meet up spot, helping you fix back your skirt. with wobbly legs, you step out of the flaunting vehicle with the help of his burly arms wrapped around you. “t- thank you,” you pant, trying to catch your breath, even still. geto stands up tall and he completely towers over you. you feel so small all of a sudden, watching as he puts his helmet back on.

“anything for a fan,” he coos, and he brushes a thumb against your lips. just a single gesture just as that felt so intimate. your eyes lock with his for a long moment, and just before you could say anything more, he mumbles. “oh, you probably want an autograph?”

your eyes light up and you grow sheepish, awkwardly tugging on the vip-checked lanyard that wraps around your throat. “yeah, please.”

“such manners like a good girl, cute,” and you bring out a magazine with his face plastered on it as a headline for this week’s up and coming races in tokyo. “nah,” he waves it away, and as your brow quirks, he takes out a sharpie. geto slides the cap in between his teeth before he glances at you. “pull your shirt down real quick, sweetheart,” and without a second thought, you tug down the hem of your shirt, barely exposing your chest.

geto’s eyes rove down your skin before he swiftly signs right against your left tit. the ink softly runs against your skin and you gasp, watching as he marks up the upper part of your chest. “aaaand, perfect,” he concludes, adding a ‘xo’ at the end of his signature. geto puts the cap back on and he flashes you a sly expression. “so i’ll see you at the next race?”

he starts walking away before you could even reply and you feel the weight of your shaky legs grow heavy. “y.. yeah,” and with dewy eyes, you watch as he steps in his car, playfully revving his engine at you.

the cool air sets against your skin once more as you stood there with shaky legs. the car meet slowly gets more crowded as the rest of the racers pass the finish line.

but, your brows furrow once you realize you felt a bit . . . empty between your legs.

with a soft gasp, you squint near the inside of geto’s car before he pulls off.

hanging over his rear view mirror instead of the fuzzy dice you once saw—was nothing other than your panties,

his real prize.

[joejhang]

andrew is so real for thinking neil is a hallucination cos now that we have outsider pov on him it's actually insane that he's a real person. like this is neil josten: he's the prettiest boy you've ever met. he's the runaway son of a serial killer. he has a million dollars but is afraid of spending money. he folds his clothes a specific way so he can tell when someone's gone through his stuff. he keeps a stalker's journal on the two greatest exy players of all time. he wears coloured contacts and they're brown. he paid a busboy $100 to knock him out cold. he insulted a celebrity athlete on live tv after trying to keep a low profile. he says he's trying to stay alive while running towards death like it's a race. he mouths off to the mafia. he respects your boundaries and is the first person ever to take you at face value and not consider you an out of control psychopath. he orders hits on your abusers. he has the most electric blue eyes you've ever seen. he looks great in clubbing clothes but dresses like he's homeless. he insults someone for their "intricate and endless daddy issues" while his father is a convicted mobster and serial killer. he didn't give a fuck when his teammate was killed. everyone seems to like him even though it's clear he's hiding a million secrets. he doesn't catch on to the many many hints you're giving him. he calls you out not for being a danger to others but for being a danger to yourself. he thinks you should be protected as well as trusting you to protect him (and you think, how can someone be a victim and a protector?). he doesn't give a flying fuck what literally anyone thinks about him. he comes back from being waterboarded and tortured and abused for weeks (to protect you) and is still as feisty and bitchy as before. except now he's a redhead and has many more scars. he is possibly the first person to ever make the active decision to protect you. he's willing to put himself in harm's way again and again and again so he won't lose you. he always has a cigarette but he never smokes. he says "you're not actually a sociopath are you?" and "the next time someone calls you soulless i might have to fight them". even though he's messy and a little oblivious he's sees you. he might be the only person to ever want you off your drugs. he wants to see you lose control, is aware that you're not out of control, you're actually so controlled and restrained all of the time and he wants to see you feel something, he wants you to be angry, be angry at him. he riles you up on purpose to see you show emotion, feel something. he's a runner and yet he's still possibly the bravest person you've ever met. he gets kidnapped and comes back even more bruised and battered than before and he's still a mouthy little shit who bitches at the press and cuts deals with the yakuza. he's most of the reason why the worst team in the nation ends up winning championships. he shoves a guy clean off his feet because they body checked you. he punched celebrity athlete riko moriyama in public, for you. he threatens him, for you. he's almost killed on live tv. he mouths off to the fbi. he watches the (second) best exy player in the world get shot. he also watches his father, notorious serial killer and gangster, get shot in front of him. and he laughs. he smiles. he kisses you and is never gonna run again and he's free and he wants to be with you, he wants you.

[motorsportbarbie13]

The Yapping Hour Is Upon Us - Part 3

In which you and Max spend the next six months just being obsessed with each other.

Warnings: A little angst, but not 'break up with you' angst, just 'i really fucking miss you' angst so it's okay. And fluff. Tooth achingly sweet fluff. Pairing: Max Verstappen x Podcaster!Reader Word Count: 4.4k plus a shit ton of social media posts. - The Yapping Hour is Upon Us - The Yapping Hour is Upon Us - Part 2 - Master List

(a/n before we begin: Probably one more part to this. Thinking of doing an 'after Max gets you back to the hotel post-race' part to wrap things up nicely if anyone wants to see that.)

Monaco May 2024

F1GossipOfficial posted

34,028 likes F1GossipOfficial Seems as if our favorite Red Bull driver and sunny little podcaster are getting closer! The pair was spotted around Monaco this week ahead of the Monaco Grand Prix. The pair have been seen publicly a handful of times since Max made an appearance on her podcast The Yapping Hour in late April, most notably at the Miami Grand Prix at the beginning of the month and then the week later in New York City where she is based. Everyone who sent in photos said the pair were super cozy and seemed lost in their own world. user0299 she's only with him for the clout and money. Her little podcast was dying out and she latched onto Max like a leech. >>>user5572 go touch some grass my man. Her podcast is consistently the number 1 listened to show on all platforms all the fucking time. user9938 they are so cute, i can't handle it user4530 I saw them at dinner the other night and oh my GOD. They sat on the same side of the table even though it was just the two of them. He held her hand underneath the table all through dinner and I don't think either of them stopped smiling or looked anywhere else but at each other the entire night. >>>user39948 they are so fucking perfect oml

Canada June 2024 yourpersonalinsta posted

493,928 likes liked by maxverstappen1, landonorris, totowolff, and others yourpersonalinsta Over the moon to have been able to be with you for this win in Canada, Maxie. user299 MAXIE?! I have no one to talk to about this redbullracing our good luck charm strikes again! >>>user456 Red Bull calling her theirs??? Love this for her. maxverstsppen1 thank you for always being in my corner liefje ❤️ >>>user394 how am i supposed to be normal after reading this??? user8827 Not Toto in the likes trying to get on her good side so Max signs with Merc in 2026 >>>user778 HAHA can you imagine??

Amalfi Coast August 2024

maxverstappen1 posted

987,409 likes liked by yourpersonalinsta, redbullracing, yourdad and others maxverstappen1 summer break with this gorgeous girl user458 they are my royal couple yourpersonalinsta wishing we were back on that boat rn instead of on different continents :( >>>maxverstappen1 just a few more weeks until Singapore, schatje. >>>user4938 this is my roman empire >>>user024 mom and dad are sad so i am sad too

October 2024 Austin, Texas

You hadn't seen Max in over three weeks. Three very, very, very long weeks. And not to be dramatic or anything but you felt like you might actually pass away if the Uber that was currently picking it's way through very heavy Austin traffic drove any slower.

While the sleek Mercedes SUV waited at a red light, your gaze drifted away from the navigation system showing the the heavy traffic all around you towards the busy city streets around you. Whoever had decided to schedule an Eminem concert, a huge college rivalry football game, and a Formula 1 race all in the same city on the same weekend should have their head examined.

Fixated on the crowd on the sidewalk outside, you mull over the last six months of your life. It has certainly been a whirlwind, that was for sure. If someone had told you back in the beginning of May that you'd be on your way to your sixth Grand Prix of the year to watch your boyfriend race in Formula 1, you would have laughed in their faces. Because really, when you sat back and considered it, the fact that you had gone from being a fan of the sport and interviewing Max on a professional level to dating him in under six months was absolutely wild.

While you attended races whenever you could, you found yourself more often than not called to the other side of the world to attend to your flourishing career. In the last six months you had ping ponged around the globe, bouncing between weekends with Max and over scheduled weeks filled with work, interviews, and meetings. Some days you just wished that things were simpler and you could just dedicate yourself to following Max around from city to city but you knew that Susan B Anthony would roll over in her grave if you gave up everything for a man so quickly, even a man as amazing as Max Verstappen.

You brush aside the thought of leaving your work because in the end, all that is is a simple fantasy brought on by you missing the man that has become the center of your universe lately.

After attending the Singapore GP with Max, you had spent a few extra days with him in Asia before needing to fly home. While Max did have nearly an entire month break from racing, he couldn't follow you to New York like he had intended. After coming back from the summer break, Max's luck had started to slip and the car had deteriorated. He hadn't won a race in months, the car was an absolute tractor, and Lando was gaining on him in the Championship. He had needed to spend every extra moment he had in the sims and with the engineering team trying to salvage the season.

While Max had been in Europe, you had been in the US recording episodes with Heidi Klum, Wayne Gretzky, and finally Kylie Kelce. Heidi had been in LA, Wayne in Florida, and Kylie in Philly so you had spent most of the last three weeks on the road. As the SUV inched closer to the COTA track, you realized you couldn't remember the last time you'd set foot in your apartment.

Exhaustion seeps into your bones as the realization washes over you. You loved the life you lived, wouldn't trade it for the world but sometimes, in these quiet moments you wished for a break, a chance to go home, wherever that even was now, and just rest.

Your phone buzzing beside you pulls you back to the present. Ysou struggle to shake off the mind numbing melancholy that's settled over you like a thick woolen blanket before answering the call. "Hi baby." You sigh, knowing who it is without even looking at the caller ID.

"What's wrong?" Max's voice is sharp on the other end, effortlessly reading your tone.

You shake your head, chest tightening with anxiety. "Just..." You search for the right words. "tired is all. I just realized I can't even remember the last time I spent a night in my own bed."

"Oh, schatje." Max sighs, knowing how grueling this schedule is as he lives it as well. "Do you want me to have the jet take you home? It's at the airfield still."

Tears collect in your eyes as your chest squeezes painfully. "No, I just want to see you." You whisper, afraid if you raise your voice you'll start to cry.

"How far are you from the track?"

You pop your head around the SUV's headrest to check the nav system. "Not long. Five minutes. I can see the giant observation tower from here."

"Have the Uber bring you right to the paddock gates. I have a car here and a few hours before any media duties. I'll take you back to the hotel myself and we can take a nap together, okay?"

Your entire body sags with relief at his words. If there was one thing that Max was good at, it was taking care of you. He didn't hem and haw or waver on a plan of action. He saw what you needed and made sure that you were taken care of. The way the burden of everything that you had silently carried for years shifted towards Max the moment you landed in Miami all those months ago was something that would shock you for years to come.

"Okay." You whisper, swiping at a single tear that managed to escape.

You have a few moments to collect yourself before the Uber stops at the entrance to the paddock. From your seat in the back, you spot a familiar blonde head that belonged to your Dutch boyfriend waiting for you. You're suddenly simultaneously bursting with excitement and beside yourself with grief as the anxiety that has gnawed at you over the last 24 hours fully consumes you at the mere sight of Max.

Max has you out of the car and into his arms before you can barely catch your breath. The moment you inhale that uniquely Max scent something inside you shifts and becomes crystal clear. You didn't need Max to have his jet take you home because you already were home. It sounded cliche in your head and it probably was, but you knew there was some truth to it: somewhere over the last six months your home had shifted away from your apartment in New York to wherever Max was.

Max tightens his grip around your waist, settling his chin on your head while you stay buried deep in his neck, you realize that home isn't a place any longer. Home is a person now and Max is that person. You don't have to go home to New York to rest, you just have to be in Max's presence. With him, you are utterly and completely safe and secure. For someone who spends 99% of her time 'on' and performing, being able to come home to Max and just switch it all off, allowing him to lead and take over, is the most powerful form of rest you could have ever dreamt of.

Max nods at the driver as he unloads your luggage, arms still locked tight around you. He can feel you melt into him, like you've been waiting for this moment since the last time you saw him. He knows that for him at least, this is true. Everything else in his life is completley falling apart. The car sucks, they had to ditch the special livery for this weekend becuase the fucking paint had the potential to make the car too heavy and slow. Lando has been on a tear lately, that McLaren a complete rocket ship and the only reason Lando hasn't overtaken him in the championship is thanks to some spectacularly shitty calls from the McLaren pit wall.

The only bright spot in Max's day is you. Your voice, your touch, your face. Any bit of you he gets on a daily basis is what keeps him going right now. As he had stood on the curb just moments before, desperately and not so patiently waiting while watching the black Mercedes SUV creep down the street towards him, it had felt like cruel and unusual punishment after being apart from you for so long.

And now? Now you were back in his arms and he drew in the longest breath he could, taking in the scent of your perfume and laundry soap that he had missed so keenly while he'd been working, and he simply couldn't get enough.

Max pulls away slightly, so he can see your pretty face but what he sees in your eyes nearly breaks him. Pain and longing hang heavy in your eyes and there is nothing Max wouldn't do to make all of that go away for you. Fingers tip your chin up towards him so he can finally get his lips on yours, a soft sigh escaping your mouth when he makes that first contact.

You swear it's like a cool drink of water in the middle of a humid heatwave in July, the way Max kisses you with such relief and passion and affection. Like he's trying to tell you through his kiss how much he adores you, how much he's missed you, how much he craves you.

"I love you." Are the first words he says to you and your breath catches in your throat. It isn't the first time he's said those words, Max had said them first all those months back when he brought you home to Monaco. It had been quick, probably too quick by the world's standards, but it just clicked between the two of you and the words had tumbled out of Max like it was the most natural thing in the world. The reason the words had your breath catching in your chest was because of the ferocity behind them, like he could tell how bone tired you were from all the travel over the last few months and he was desperate to remind you why you were doing all of this. Why the two of you were doing all of this together and apart. It was for moments like this, moments where you were attached to each other in the middle of the busy paddock parking lot like no one else existed.

"I love you too, Max." You whisper, dusting your lips over the stubble that was scattered over his jaw. "Can we go take a nap now? I'm so tired."

yourpersonalinsta posted

348,209 likes liked by kyliekelce, maxverstappen1, assistantshannon, and others yourpersonalinsta home is wherever you are (tagged: maxverstappen1) user098 mad max is no more, there is only soft cuddly boyfie max user0399 this is the cutest thing i've ever seen user000 god i am so single maxverstappen1 love you baby >>>danielricciardo SIMP >>>maxverstappen1 absolutely >>>user9938 it kills me that he is loves her so boldly and loudly. girl hit the mfing jackpot. (liked by author)

It's not your alarm that fully wakes you up on Friday morning. It isn't Max's either. But as you try to untangle your limbs from Max's and search for the source of the ringing, you can't help but curse whoever is interrupting the slow sleepy cuddles that had been progressing into something more heated for the past 20 minutes.

You nearly spit you're so mad when you see the caller ID.

"John." You growl, sitting up in bed as Max settles himself back against the mountain of pillows beside you. "It is 8 in the morning on a Friday the day after I saw my boyfriend for the first time in over three weeks. I swear on all things good and holy, this had better be good."

John, to his credit, didn't even scoff at the threat. He'd been your business manager for going on four years now and was used to your early morning attitudes.

"She said yes."

You sit up, back going ramrod straight as the three words clang through you. "What?" You hiss.

Beside you, Max struggles to sit up too, alarm coursing through him at the panic in your voice.

"Tree just called me five minutes ago. Said that Kylie had sent her the episode and wouldn't stop gushing about how amazing you were and how you were the perfect person to do this interview on the end of the tour and everything. Tree said Taylor watched your episode with Michelle and Queen Maxima too, said they were the best interviews she's ever seen. Everything is a go."

Your entire world tilts as what John is telling you fully sinks in. "Taylor Swift's agreed to come on the show?" You voice is weak, heavy under the weight of the news John is telling you. Your hands tremble at the thought of what this means for you. For your career.

Beside you, Max sucks in a breath at your sentence, fully aware of how big of a moment this is for you. Pride soars through him as he watches literal sunshine dance across your face, your smile as bright as the Texas morning light. "Schatje." He whispers, pulling your free hand towards his lips. Your eyes dart over to him and you grin at him, kicking your feet a little, completely unable to hide your excitement.

"She also said yes to your suggestion of a behind the scenes vlog on your channel ahead of the release of the episode. Thought the idea was marketing gold. You've got full access to everything for the entire week."

Before you had landed Kylie Kelce on the show, you and John had made a silly, pie in the sky request to Tree Paine not even thinking that it would go anywhere. When Kylie had agreed to do an episode, a request that had actually been made to her people months before John had contacted Tree, the idea of maybe, just maybe you might be able to land Taylor after had grown a bit. You hadn't told anyone of the request, not even Max, because you didn't want to be embarrassed if it didn't work out.

"There's only one problem." Your heart stops and you grip at Max's hand for support. You knew there had to be a catch. "They want you in Toronto by Sunday."

"Wh-what?" Your stomach plummets through the floor. You had just gotten to Austin last night and now you were going to have to leave again? You were supposed to spend the entire triple header with Max. Three weeks of solid time with him had been the only thing getting you through the previous three week separation. You two had even planned to go visit your parents in Michigan between Austin and Mexico later next week.

"The first concert is Monday and Tree wants you to get as much content as you can and has asked you be there at 9am Monday morning."

You head spins. "Oh-okay." There's a giant Max shaped hole in your heart at what you have to agree to, simply exhausted by the fact that you're going to have to pick up and leave again so soon. "Okay. We'll figure it out."

"Do you want me to have Shannon make flight arrangements?"

You glance over at Max, who senses your apprehension. "Let me talk through it with Max and see what we can figure out. I'll call you in a few hours, okay?"

"Sounds good. Congratulations, kiddo. This is huge."

You smile despite yourself, excitement and anxiety winding their way through your chest making it a little hard to breathe. "Bye John."

You gently place your phone back on the bedside table before turning to Max, bracing yourself for the good and bad news you have to deliver.

"The beginning of that call looked phenomenal but now you look like you're going to be sick." Max observes, pulling you into his lap.

You shudder against when his lips graze your neck, dropping a kiss to his forehead. "Taylor Swift agreed to come on the show and to let me do a weeks worth of behind the scenes of her Toronto shows."

"Baby, that is amazing. This is going to be huge for you and the show!"

You nod, a bit dazed by all of this information you have to process. "But they want me there by Sunday night so I can start first thing Monday." Sadness edges into your voice, the dread of having to leave Max again begins to sink in fully.

"When should Greg have the jet ready to take off then? You'll probably want to leave before the end of the race to beat traffic, yeah? Although I suppose we could find you a helicopter to take you from the track to the airport."

You stare at Max like he's grown three heads. His voice is so nonchalant despite him suggesting he rent you a helicopter that all you can do is blink at him for a few moments. "Just...just like that? You're on board with it? You're not upset?"

Max scoffs, pulling you closer so he can rest his head on your shoulder. His arms go tighter around your waist as he gives you a kiss on the cheek. "Why would I be upset? I'll do anything I can to help you live out this dream, schatje. You know that. This is the biggest thing to happen to your career since you had F1 racing legend Max Verstappen as a guest."

The giggle that tumbles out of you has the tension in the room popping like a soap bubble. "You're ridiculous."

"And yet, you're still here." Max finds your lips then, the kiss full of reassurance and confidence. Of course he was disappointed you were going to be leaving in 2 days and he wasn't sure when you'd be back with him but this opportunity was too good to miss. "I'd never forgive myself if you missed spending a week doing what you love with one of your favorite artists because of me. Of course I'll miss you but you need to do this. So tell me, when should I have the jet ready to get you to Toronto?"

yourpersonalinsta story post

story replies: user8882 ARE YOU THERE FOR ERAS TOUR??? user029 what are you up to ma'am??? user837 wait. first kylie's on the show and now you're in Toronto the same week as Taylor. ARE WE GETTING A TAYLOR EPISODE OH MY GOD.

TheYappingHour posted

876,029 likes liked by maxverstappen1, taylorswift, alexandrasaintmleux, and others theyappinghour Toronto, you were stunning! Can anyone guess who our next guest on the show is going to be??? Behind the scenes vlog dropping next week ahead of a very very special two part episode set to drop later this month. user928 oh my god, everyone stay calm, it's happening. user020 IS THIS FOR REAL??? I will never recover maxverstappen1 so proud of you my love >>>yourpersonalinsta couldn't do it without you, maxie >>>user928 if there's one thing Max is going to be, it's the first one in the likes and comments on anything his girl does. (liked by yourpersonalinsta) >>>user0298 may this kind of love find me one day

Excerpt from Episode 59 of The Yapping Hour featuring Taylor Swift:

You: Speaking of what you do in your down time, can we talk about how supportive you are of your boyfriend and show up for him despite the Brad's and Chad's hating every second of it?

Taylor: It's so silly to me, how much everyone hates it. When I show up at the game, I'm just like every other significant other. I'm not there to take the spotlight away from anyone, I just want to watch my man play!

You: Oh my God, I totally get it. It's so strange to me the way some fans can't handle someone like you who has a whole other identity outside of who you're dating, showing up to support the person you love.

Taylor: It's like, relax! I'm just here to watch my boyfriend catch a ball!

You: Right? Just let me enjoy watching 20 cars drive around in circles in peace please!

Taylor: You two are so cute though. Trav was watching the race in Monaco a few months back, right after he invested in Alpine, and there was that one shot of you and Max after the end of the race in his garage and you were giving him a hug. I love how loudly you love him and how public he is about you. It's refreshing.

You: Oh gosh, thank you. Yes, he is so supportive of everything I do, just like Travis is. It's such a comfort, isn't it? *Taylor nods* He actually stayed in Austin an extra day so I could use his jet to come up here.

Taylor: Trav was supposed to go to that race but got caught up in training stuff. It looked like so much fun.

You: Have you ever been to a race? Either of you?

Taylor: I haven't but Travis went to the Las Vegas race last year. Said it was the one of the biggest parties he'd ever been to.

You: You'll have to come this year then! It's in a few weeks!

Taylor: I'll talk to Trav and see if we can make it happen.

TheYappingHour posted

1,039,928 likes liked by maxverstappen1, taylorswift, kikagomes, and others theyappinghour What an absolute whirlwind of a week and a half. Spending time with your favorite artist, seeing her in her element, and then spending a few hours talking about everything from what it's like to live such a public life to how important it is to have a supportive significant other. I simply can't wait to share the behind the scenes vlog dropping at the end of this week and then the episode later this month. Taylor, you are a dream of a human being and we are so happy to have had this opportunity. Can't wait to see you and Travis at a race! taylorswift You are such a sweetheart! So glad we got to spend time together this past week! Can't wait to hear the episode my love! kikagomes how does it feel to live my dreammmm bestie??? >>>yourpersonalinsta kiks omg i will never recover from this!! maxverstappen1 Proud of you, as always lifeje. >>>yourpersonalinsta can't wait to see you so so so soon baby

"And he doesn't expect a thing?" You glance up at the ticket counter where the airline employee has begun to call first class. You stand, phone still pressed to your ear, pulling your carry on behind you.

"Nope!" On the other end, Max's PR manager Sophie giggles conspiratorially. "He was just complaining to GP ten minutes ago how he couldn't believe they didn't have more flights from Sao Paulo to Paris. He said he was considering upgrading his jet to one with longer range so he could fly private next time."

You roll your eyes but chuckle. If you were a drama queen, your boyfriend could be the drama king to match sometimes. Although you didn't blame him to be quite honest. After leaving Austin mid way through the race, you had missed the Mexico race entirely. The plan had been for you to fly down to Brazil for the Sao Paulo race but editing and press had taken much longer than you had anticipated so now it was Saturday night and you were boarding a 9 hour flight from New York to the South American country.

Only, Max didn't know that. Max thought you were getting on a flight to Nice via Paris before driving to Monaco where he'd meet you sometime late Monday night or early Tuesday morning. Joke was on him though, you had finished everything up and had called Sophie for help to get you down to Brazil just in time for Sunday's race.

"He's such a baby." You murmur as the flight attendant leads you to your seat.

"He is beside himself missing you." Sophie says and you can hear the smile in her voice. "Just make sure I'm around when he sees you for the firs time, okay? He's going to lose it."

Laughing, you hoist your suitcase into the overhead bin before settling down in the luxurious lie flat seat that will be your bed for the next nine hours. If everything goes right, you'll land in Brazil just as the postponed qualifying is finishing up and will be able to watch the entire race in person.

"Thank you for helping coordinate this, Soph. I really appreciate it."

"Anything to get Max out of this slump he's in!" She replies brightly.

A few minutes later, you hang up the phone and type out a quick text letting Max know you're boarding the flight. Luckily, the flight from New York to Paris is roughly the same time as the flight to Sao Paulo so he doesn't bat an eye when you tell him you'll be unreachable, only telling you that the doorman to his building is expecting you and to make yourself at home in his apartment in Monaco when you get there before he does.

************************************************************************

It is absolutely raining cats and dogs when the car Sophie hired pulls into the track after what feels like a lifetime of travel. Right after they served dinner on your flight, you took a sleeping pill and passed out for the duration of the flight, only waking up once the pilot turned on the overhead lights, signaling your arrival.

A quick text to Sophie alerts her to your arrival and she says she'll come and meet you outside the paddock with an extra umbrella. The driver that picked you up from the airport will take your luggage to the hotel where Max and the team are staying. When the car stops in front of the paddock gates, you spot Sophie immediately.

"Soph!!" You shout the moment you stumble out of the car, limbs a little stiff from the long car ride. Sao Paulo traffic is a beast in the best of weather but in a downpour like this? Nightmarish.

Sophie opens her arms to embrace you, "Oh I am so glad you're here. He is an absolute nightmare right now."

You grimace, knowing exactly why. He'd be starting P17 in a few hours. Between the team having got caught behind a red flag during Q2 and his 5 place grid penalty, it was a nightmare scenario for Max. All of this was compounded by Lando's win in the sprint yesterday and the fact that he was starting on pole today.

"Alright then, lets go. Maybe I can talk him down off a ledge before the race starts."

Sophie grins because she knows you'll be able to do just that. If there was anyone who could calm Mad Max down and bring him back to earth after the kind of morning the team had had today, it was you.

As you weave your way through the crowded paddock, the heavy rain simply not a deterrent to anyone at the track today, Max is in the garage considering the merits of scratching his eyeballs out so that he doesn't have to run this fucking race today. Everything is wrong. The car is terrible. Still. The FIA seemed to have a hard on for fucking up his weekend. Lando was on poll. And worst of all, he really fucking missed you. There was still several days between him and being reunited with you but if he could have just walked right out of the paddock and onto a plane to get to wherever you were in that moment, he would have. The only thing that seemed to settle him during these times lately was your steady presence in the garage. He didn't even need you to say anything, just knowing that you were around, within arms length if he needed you, did something to calm him like nothing else could.

He's talking to GP, actually, he's grumbling at GP when a familiar flash of hair and bright smile catches his eyes. Perfect, he thinks miserably, now I'm imagining her in the garage. I've gone full unhinged obsessed boyfriend, haven't I?

Imagine his shock when he actually hears your voice. "Max." You call out softly, hands clasped in front of you as you wait at the edge of the garage beside Sophie.

Max simply blinks a few times, as if he's trying to figure out if he's hallucinating or if you're really standing in front of him. His heart hammers in his chest when everything finally clicks into place. GP doesn't even bat an eye when Max walks away from him, mid sentence, before crossing the garage in a few short strides.

Max isn't usually one for intense public displays of affection, especailly in the garage and neither are you. There's a level of professionalism he likes to maintain while racing and you have always respected that but when Max sees you standing in front of him, practically drowning in one of his sweatshirts, hair wet and messy from walking through the paddock in the rain, he can't stop himself from scooping you up in his arms. Burying his head in your neck, he inhales deeply. So deeply that his lungs pinch with pain from the way he's trying to commit the way you smell to memory.

"You're here." He murmurs, voice thick and heavy with emotion. "What are you doing here? I thought you were going to meet me in Monaco?"

Max sets you down, not really wanting you out of his arms but wanting to move you to a quieter part of the garage. Behind you, Sophie, GP and the rest of the team discreetly shuffle away to give you two a bit of privacy.

"I knew how hard the last two races were for you and I just..." Pausing, you have to wait for a moment for your hands to stop shaking. You've been running on sheer adrenaline and caffeine for what feels like the last three weeks now and the emotion of the moment catches up to you. "I just wanted to be here for you."

Max lowers his lips to yours, covering them in a kiss that is all longing and white hot heat. He keeps the kiss just this side of tame enough for the garage, not wanting to draw the ire of Christian but he had needed to taste you then. His hand comes up to cup your face while the other slips around your waist, pulling you in closer to his body. He's slightly damp from how wet it's been this morning but none of that matters now that you're back in his arms.

"I missed you so much." He murmurs, blue eyes practially sparkling down at you, he's so happy. It's been weeks since he's felt like this. Settled. Like he can take on the world. For the first time in what feels like forever, Max has a sense of determination that wraps itself around him. Like the championship isn't all but lost to Lando. Like the car isn't going to be terrible today, even though he might not even finish in the points. Like everything he's gone through the past few months on the track is all about to end because you're finally here and if anyone can bring the team luck, it's you.

"I love you." You whisper into his chest. "Now, let's go show the world why you're about to become a 4 time world champion, yeah?"

And that's exactly what he does.

yourpersonalinsta posted

938,398 likes liked by redbullracing, taylorswift, yourdad and others yourpersonalinsta we are SO back, baby!!! What started out as a nightmare of a day turned into a generational drive for the history books. P17 to P1 and I cannot believe I was there to witness it. Max, I am proud of you beyond words. You and the entire team deserve this win today. I love you to the moon and back, Maxie. (tagged: maxverstappen1) taylorswift what a race! Trav and I caught most of it before the game today. Congratulations!!! >>>yourpersonalinsta hope to see you in Vegas in a couple of weeks! >>>user928 oh my god, new bestie duo unlocked!? maxverstappen1 words fail to describe how much I love you baby. Thank you for always being in my corner and never giving up on me, even when I want to give up on myself. Love you to the ends of time, schatje >>>user928 i am SOBBING. Boyfriend Max is my favorite Max.

Tags: @shelbyteller @formulaal @martygraciesversion381 @longhairkoo @samantha-chicago @stelena-klayley @dark-night-sky-99

[harrysfolklore]

can you write something about lando and p since the new video is so cute

OBSESSED WITH THE LANDO AND P CONTENT !!! also i posted a different version of this on patreon if case you want to check it outttt

You're standing in the paddock with Kelly, who's resting her hand on her growing baby bump, while P rummages through her little backpack frantically.

"Careful sweetie, don't mess up all your things," Kelly says softly, but P is too focused on her mission.

"Found them!" P exclaims triumphantly, pulling out a sheet of sparkly racing car stickers. She's been saving them specifically for today, the Abu Dhabi Grand Prix, refusing to use them despite having them for weeks.

"When can we see Lando? Is he in his garage? Can we go now?" P asks for what feels like the hundredth time this morning. Max exchanges an amused look with Kelly, who's trying to hide her smile.

"Patience, little one," Max tells her, but P is already at your side, tugging at your hand.

"Please? Can we go see him now? The stickers will bring him extra luck!" Her big eyes look up at you pleadingly, and you can't help but melt at her enthusiasm.

Kelly chuckles, "I think we better go before she explodes from excitement."

When you finally reach the McLaren garage, P spots Lando immediately and runs toward him, "Lando! Lando!"

You see your boyfriend turn around, in his race suit with the top half tied around his waist, his face breaking into that bright smile you love so much. P skids to a stop right in front of him, suddenly shy.

"I… I brought you something," she says, holding out the stickers with both hands. "For luck."

Lando crouches down to her level, looking at the stickers with exaggerated amazement. "These are incredible! Are you sure you want to give them to me?"

P nods enthusiastically. "They're special racing stickers. If you have them, you'll go super fast!"

"Well, thank you very much," Lando says seriously. "This is the best gift ever."

Without warning, P launches herself at him for a hug, wrapping her little arms around his waist. Lando hugs her back, careful not to crush the stickers.

You walk over to join them, but as you try to get in on the hug, P immediately protests, "Nooo! This is my Lando hug! You get him all the time!"

Everyone bursts out laughing, including Kelly who waddles over with Max. "P, sweetheart, sharing is caring," she reminds her daughter gently.

Penelope shakes her head firmly against Lando's waist. "My hug first. She can have him later."

"I see how it is," you tease. "I've got competition from a five-year-old."

Max can't stop grinning. "Better watch out, she's quite the charmer."

Penelope finally releases Lando but stays close to him as she excitedly tells him about how she's going to watch the race with her mom and how she drew a picture of his car in school.

"Promise you'll win?" P asks Lando seriously.

"I'll try my very best, just for you," he responds, carefully placing the stickers in his pocket. "These will definitely help."

Eventually, Kelly announces it's time for P's snack break, and after extracting a promise from Lando that he'll wave to her on the podium, Penelope reluctantly leaves with her parents.

As soon as they're gone, Lando wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you close. "Finally got my turn for a hug," he murmurs, pressing his forehead against yours.

You loop your arms around his neck, smiling. "I don't know, those were some pretty serious heart eyes she was giving you. Should I be worried?"

Lando laughs, pressing a quick kiss to your lips. "Definitely not. Though I have to admit, the stickers might be the sweetest gift I've ever gotten."

"Sweeter than when I got you that gaming setup for your birthday?" you tease, playing with the hair at the nape of his neck.

"Hmm, tough competition," he grins, leaning in for another kiss. This one lasts longer, soft and sweet, until you hear wolf whistles from the McLaren mechanics nearby.

Lando pulls back slightly, rolling his eyes but smiling. "I should probably get back to work."

"Probably," you agree, but neither of you moves. "Good luck out there today. P's not the only one who wants to see you win."

"Well, with lucky stickers AND my girlfriend's support, how can I lose?" he says with a wink, giving you one last quick kiss before reluctantly stepping back.

[theonottsbxtch]

EL COQUETO | FC43

an: welcome back as we write about my n.1 pookie, i've got some more works planned for him BUT i've just gotten to france so imma be very busy rip, based off of this request

summary: when franco catches feelings for a journalist who is persuaded he doesn't really want her.

wc: 7.6k

The paddock was alive with energy, buzzing with the hum of engines and the chatter of the press as they swarmed around the new driver. She watched him move through the crowd with ease, a slight swagger in his step and a dazzling smile that had already made him the focus of every camera. He was the story of the weekend: Franco Colapinto, the unexpected mid-season replacement, here to shake up the grid with his flashy driving style—and, evidently, his unapologetic charm.

He caught sight of her, raised an eyebrow in recognition, and made a beeline toward her with the confidence of someone who knew he’d be welcome, even if he hadn’t been invited.

“Hola,” he greeted, his voice carrying a thick, rolling Spanish accent that seemed to coat every word in warmth. “You must be my next question of the day. They warned me about the best journalist here—of course, I was told to behave.”

She gave him a practised smile, cool but polite. “Franco, welcome to the team. How are you feeling about joining mid-season?”

His eyes sparkled, unfazed by the businesslike tone. “How am I feeling?” He leaned in just slightly, as though sharing a secret. “Well, right now, very lucky. They said I’d get tough questions, but they didn’t say the interviewer would be… distracting.”

She fought the urge to look away, just barely managing to keep her composure. “So you feel ready for the pressure, then?” she asked, refocusing, though the tiniest hint of a blush warmed her cheeks.

“For the track? Yes, I am prepared to race anyone.” He paused, letting his gaze linger on her a beat too long. “For the interviews? That remains to be seen. Perhaps you can teach me how to handle that part, sí?”

She could sense her colleagues nearby, some watching with open amusement as they caught his flirtatious energy. Franco was as smooth as they came, that much was certain. But she wouldn’t be the one to crack first.

“I’m sure you’ll learn quickly,” she said, tilting her head, her voice steady, though her heart raced. “Now, back to the race. What are your goals for this weekend?”

His grin broadened, but he played along. “Goals for the weekend,” he echoed thoughtfully, shifting back into the question. “Win a few hearts, break a few records—no particular order.” He winked, and she felt a laugh bubble up before she stifled it, opting instead for a brisk nod.

“Right. Well, I hope you’re ready for the competition,” she managed.

He shrugged, eyes glinting with mischief. “With you here, qué competencia?”

She gave him a pointed look, resisting the smile tugging at her lips. “You know, charm doesn’t score you points on the track.”

“Ah, no?” He tilted his head, feigning surprise. “Then I suppose I’ll have to win the hard way.”

Just then, a flash of cameras went off around them, the media eating up every angle of Franco’s arrival. He seemed entirely unfazed, even performing slightly for the flashes. The crowd around them surged with questions about his plans, about what his first practice would look like, about his last season in Formula 2. But Franco’s attention was still locked on her, and he hadn’t missed a beat.

“So,” he said, with that soft smile of his, “do you think I’ll be able to charm Formula One, or will they be immune to my Argentian ways?”

She gave him a dry smile. “You might have your work cut out for you. It’s not a stroll through Argentina, after all.”

He laughed at that, clearly enjoying her wit. “You’re tough,” he said, a touch of admiration sneaking into his voice. “I can see why you’re the best.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Flattery won’t distract me from the questions, Franco.”

“No? Not even if I try very, very hard?” he asked, drawing out the words with a grin. It was ridiculous, really—the way he leaned into every word, the way he seemed to shine in the spotlight. But there was something endearing about it too, something that felt… unexpectedly genuine.

“Not even then,” she replied, her tone light but steady. “Let’s talk strategy. What’s your focus for your first race?”

He sighed, shifting slightly but keeping that glint in his eye. “Fine, I’ll behave,” he said with a sigh, straightening up to answer. “My focus is simple: get the car under me, push it to its limits, and aim for a strong finish. Maybe even a few surprise overtakes. I’ve been itching to get back on the track.”

It was the most serious answer he’d given yet, and she noted the shift in his voice—a hint of intensity breaking through the smooth, easy charm.

“And your teammate?” she pressed, sensing she’d found the thread to pull him out of his flirtatious veneer. “Are you prepared for the rivalry?”

Franco’s expression turned thoughtful for a moment, a flicker of something sharper in his eyes. “My teammate…” He paused, glancing away briefly before meeting her gaze again. “He’s William’s best. I’ll learn from him, give him the respect he deserves. But I didn’t come here to play second.”

She watched as someone next to her scribbled down his answer, though her mind wandered slightly, wondering at the complexity beneath his charm.

“Good to hear,” she said, offering a small nod. “We’ll all be watching to see if you live up to that confidence.”

“I live up to my promises,” he replied smoothly. Then he leaned in one last time, lowering his voice just for her. “One of them being to get at least one smile from you by the end of the weekend. I’ll start with that goal.”

Before she could reply, he gave a casual wave to the crowd, moving on to the next journalist as though he hadn’t just made her heart skip a beat with his easy, disarming confidence. She watched him go, flustered despite herself.

One thing was certain: Franco Colapinto was going to be a story.

When the time came, the race had barely begun, but her eyes were already glued to the screen, following the sleek white-and-blue car with Franco’s number emblazoned on the front. Despite her best efforts to stay neutral, to approach this like any other weekend, there was something magnetic about watching him. Franco Colapinto, the audacious rookie, who’d barely spent a week with the team and had taken to the grid without a single day of training in an F1 car.

From the start, it was clear he was playing it differently. He didn’t charge forward recklessly like other rookies might have, eager to prove themselves. Instead, Franco took a few cautious laps, feeling out the car, testing its responses. She noticed how his style evolved lap by lap, each one more aggressive, his moves sharper. He was adapting, learning the car right there in the thick of the race.

As the race progressed, he began to gain ground. Corner after corner, he squeezed every ounce of performance from his machine, edging closer to the pack with each lap. By mid-race, he was overtaking the backmarkers, slipping past seasoned drivers who had years on him, and the commentators were buzzing.

She caught herself smiling, feeling a strange, almost foolish pride as she watched. The memory of his easy, arrogant grin flashed in her mind, his voice low and teasing: “Do you think I’ll charm Formula One?” She’d laughed it off, but he had something special, didn’t he? That hunger for the track, the sheer nerve to go head-to-head with anyone in his way.

Then, as if her thoughts had summoned trouble, the camera cut to his car—a close-up on his visor as he fought for P12. Her heart caught as he made a daring move, threading his car through a razor-thin gap into the next turn. It was reckless, and yet somehow—somehow—he made it stick.

“P12!” The radio crackled through his team radio, their voice as surprised as she felt. For a rookie with zero F1 experience, it was practically a victory.

She exhaled, releasing a breath she hadn’t realised she’d been holding. The chequered flag fell, and Franco’s car slowed down, his voice breaking through the team radio with a triumphant laugh, half-sighing, half-cheering in disbelief at his own result.

When she saw him back in the paddock, she managed to slip past the swarm of journalists waiting to pounce, positioning herself where he’d inevitably cross her path. She didn’t want to admit how much she wanted to hear his version of the race firsthand, to see if the adrenaline still sparkled in his eyes the way it had behind the visor.

When he finally caught sight of her, his face lit up. “Ah, my toughest questioner returns,” he said, the grin wide as he raked a hand through his hair, still tousled from the helmet. “So? Impressed?”

She raised an eyebrow, trying to keep her expression composed. “Not bad for a first race,” she said, voice calm but betraying the slightest hint of a smile. “Though I have to say, you took some pretty risky moves out there.”

Franco laughed, that low, familiar chuckle that could disarm anyone. “You sound like my engineer. But I had to make it interesting, didn’t I?” His gaze softened slightly, the playfulness ebbing for a moment. “I did better than you expected, maybe?”

“Maybe,” she admitted, leaning in just a bit. “I wouldn’t let it go to your head, though.”

He feigned a wince. “Ah, so I’ll have to work harder to impress you, then.”

With that, she couldn’t hold back the smile any longer. “Perhaps,” she said, voice softer. “But you’ve made a start.”

She followed the rest of the press corps into the media pen, her notebook in hand, watching as Franco slipped into his role with practised ease. The other drivers, still catching their breath, answered questions in measured tones, clearly exhausted. But Franco was… well, Franco. He leaned back against the barrier, relaxed, a half-smile playing on his lips as he answered questions, some about his lack of training, others about his shockingly high finish.

She hung back at first, observing him as he effortlessly charmed each journalist in turn, flashing that disarming grin and making even the toughest questions seem like casual conversation. But when his eyes caught hers across the small crowd, he subtly waved her forward, his grin widening.

“Ah, finally,” he said, his tone playful as she approached. “I was starting to think you were hiding from me.” The other journalists shot her curious glances, some smirking at Franco’s obvious interest.

She managed to keep her expression neutral, clearing her throat and lifting her voice to a professional tone. “Franco, congratulations on P12. Quite a debut.”

“Gracias, cariño,” he replied, eyes sparkling. “For a moment, I thought you didn’t think I could do it.”

“Well, you didn’t exactly take the most traditional route,” she shot back, raising an eyebrow. “You had us all on the edge of our seats with those overtakes.”

He leaned in a little, lowering his voice to just above a murmur, his gaze fixed on hers. “I thought about what you said. ‘Charm doesn’t score points.’ So I had to give you something else to smile about.”

She could feel her cheeks warm under his steady gaze, and she fought to keep her expression cool. “Don’t flatter yourself, Franco. I’m just here to report the facts.”

“Hmm,” he said, tapping his chin thoughtfully, though a playful smirk tugged at his lips. “Well, the fact is, I went from P20 to P12 on my first day. But somehow, I think I still haven’t impressed the person who matters most.”

“The person who—?” She trailed off, exasperated. “Franco, you were the story today.”

“Was I?” he asked, the innocent tone entirely ruined by the mischief in his eyes. “Because if I’m the story, you’re the reason it’s a good one.”

Before she could protest, he glanced over her shoulder at the next journalist, nodding politely. Then, in a flash, he was back to her, clearly undeterred. “When can we continue our interview?”

She forced herself to keep her composure. “I think you’ve given me more than enough material for one day.”

“A pity.” He shook his head, though his grin was unmistakable. “Then maybe next time, you’ll be a little more impressed.”

She watched him walk away, shoulders loose and steps casual as he moved from one group of reporters to the next, answering their questions with the same easy confidence he’d shown with her. She could still feel the heat of his gaze, the lingering effect of his words making her pulse quicken.

“Wow.” The journalist next to her, a seasoned reporter with a wry smile, gave her a knowing look. “You okay there? He has that effect, doesn’t he?”

She blinked, quickly snapping out of her daze, feeling a flush of embarrassment creep up her neck. “I—yeah, I don’t know what’s going on,” she muttered, shaking her head, trying to compose herself. But she could still hear his words ringing in her ears, his playful teasing, the warmth in his gaze. “The person who matters most.”

“Oh, I think I do.” The other journalist smirked, nodding in Franco’s direction as he laughed and clapped a fellow driver on the shoulder. “It seems Franco over here has a slight crush.”

She scoffed, though it came out more flustered than she’d intended. “Franco has a crush on every woman he talks to. It’s his… thing since he got here.”

The journalist raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. “Maybe so, but I’ve watched him all day and that was different.”

Her colleague’s words only made her cheeks grow warmer. Was it that obvious? She was used to managing tough interviews, unflappable under pressure, and here she was, thrown off by a driver who hadn’t even been in Formula 1 for a full week. But somehow, Franco’s charm wasn’t just some casual game to him; it felt more… intense. And he’d directed every bit of that intensity straight at her.

The journalist chuckled. “Don’t overthink it. Enjoy the attention—it’s not every day a rookie looks at you like you’re the finish line.”

She glanced away, her lips twitching into a reluctant smile. She didn’t want to admit it, not to her colleague, and definitely not to herself, but there was something in the way he’d looked at her, like she was more than just another journalist, more than just one of the many people crowding his spotlight.

“Well, let’s hope he stays focused on the real finish line,” she replied, aiming for a casual tone that didn’t quite land. But she couldn’t deny it—Franco Colapinto was becoming more than just the story of the weekend. He was starting to feel like her story, too.

Later that evening, she sat in her hotel room, trying to unwind from the chaos of race day. The lights of the city glimmered outside her window, but her mind was still caught on Franco—his effortless charm, that maddening smirk, the way he’d singled her out, even with half the media pen watching. It was absurd, really. She’d covered far bigger stories, spoken with veteran champions, and yet one rookie had managed to leave her feeling more flustered than she’d care to admit.

With a sigh, she scrolled through her phone, halfheartedly catching up on messages, until a notification popped up that made her heart skip.

Francolpainto has sent you a message.

She hesitated, a mix of curiosity and nerves swirling in her stomach as she opened it. The message was simple, casual—like he hadn’t already spent the whole day keeping her off balance.

Franco: Hola! Are you at the hotel?

Before she could talk herself out of it, she typed a quick reply.

Her: Yes, I am.

The response came almost immediately.

Franco: Perfect! I’m downstairs in the lounge. Come have dinner with me?

She stared at the screen, her mind racing. It was tempting—she’d be lying to herself if she said it wasn’t. But she knew his type all too well, didn’t she? The charming new driver who flirted with every journalist, every fan, anyone who would listen. She could already imagine him saying the exact same things to another reporter tomorrow.

No, she couldn’t let herself get pulled in. Not by someone who was probably just looking for a bit of attention.

Her: Thanks, but I think I’ll pass. Long day.

She set the phone down, hoping that would be the end of it, but a new message came through almost instantly.

Franco: Too bad. I was hoping I’d finally get a smile out of you without a hundred cameras around.

She rolled her eyes, though she couldn’t deny the small flutter his words sent through her. He was persistent, that was for sure.

Her: You’re very determined, Franco. But I have to ask—do you make this invitation to all the journalists?

A pause, just a few seconds longer than his usual quick responses. Then, his reply appeared, simple and direct.

Franco: No, just the one who keeps me on my toes.

Her: Pity, this one isn’t intrested.

She set her phone down after typing that, ignoring the little thrill that shot through her when he messaged her again almost immediately. Franco’s charm was undeniably effective, but she wasn’t about to let herself become just another name on his roster of admirers. He’d have to do a lot more than offer a casual dinner invite if he wanted her attention.

Franco: Really? You’re going to turn me down just like that?

She smirked at the screen. Of course he wasn’t used to hearing “no.”

Her: Really. I’ve seen you in action today, Franco. I’m sure you’ll find someone else to keep you company.

A longer pause this time, as if her words had taken him off-guard. When he replied, his tone was more thoughtful.

Franco: That’s not what I meant. Today was… different. I don’t want to go to dinner with just anyone. I want to go with you.

Her heart skipped a beat, but she forced herself to stay firm. She typed a quick reply, keeping it casual.

Her: Nice try. But I’ve seen the way you charm everyone you talk to. You’re going to have to try a lot harder if you want me to believe that.

A few minutes passed, and she wondered if maybe he’d let it go. But just as she was about to put her phone down, another message appeared.

Franco: Okay. Fair enough. How about this: tomorrow, after practice, let me show you what a real date looks like. No crowds, no cameras. Just you and me.

She hesitated, feeling the pull of curiosity mingled with doubt. She knew he could be as persistent as he was charming, and there was something intriguing about his willingness to push past her refusal.

Her: Why should I believe this isn’t just a game to you?

His response came quickly this time, almost earnest.

Franco: Because no one else makes me want to try this hard. I’m not playing around here, cariño. Tell me what I need to do, and I’ll do it.

She smiled, a little thrill rushing through her. For the first time, he seemed genuinely off-balance, unsure, and she couldn’t help but enjoy it.

Her: We’ll see if you mean that. Good luck tomorrow, Franco.

Franco: Gracias. And just so you know… I’m not giving up that easily.

The following week, she found herself in the bustling paddock of the Baku, her eyes catching sight of Franco’s car parked in the paddock. She had to admit, he’d stayed true to his word since their last exchange, staying out of her messages—though his lingering glances and smiles across the paddock hadn’t exactly disappeared. If anything, he seemed more determined, more focused. It was all part of his act, she reminded herself. And yet, there was something undeniably thrilling about it.

She was busy gathering notes when she felt a familiar presence beside her. Franco had sidled up, hands tucked into the pockets of his team jacket, his easygoing grin making her pulse quicken in spite of herself.

“Back to cheer me on, sí?” he asked, eyes bright with that familiar mischief.

She held back a smile, refusing to give him the satisfaction. “I’m here to cover the race, Franco. Your cheering section is back there.” She nodded to the growing crowd of fans waving his name on signs with Argentinan flags just a few metres away.

He laughed, the sound warm and rich. “They’re great, sure, but I was looking for one particular fan. The one who told me I’d have to work harder if I wanted to impress her.”

She raised an eyebrow, stepping out of earshot of the nearest camera. “Oh, you remember that, do you?”

“Every word,” he said, his gaze steady. “I thought about it all week.”

A small thrill ran through her, though she kept her voice steady and her tone cool. “Well, if you’re serious, you’ll have to do better than last week’s P12. Otherwise, it just looks like more talk.”

His expression shifted, his easy grin giving way to a flash of determination. “If it’s a higher position you want,” he said, leaning in just slightly, “then I’ll get it. Just keep watching.”

She crossed her arms, fighting the smile tugging at her lips. “I’ll be watching, Colapinto. Don’t disappoint me.”

He held her gaze for a moment, his eyes flickering with something that felt genuine, earnest. “I don’t plan to,” he murmured, stepping back with a wink before heading toward his car.

As he disappeared into the garage, her heart raced. Franco Colapinto, the rookie charmer, was setting out to prove himself to her. And, as much as she hated to admit it, she was looking forward to seeing if he could keep his promise.

She sat in the media centre, eyes locked on the screen as the race unfolded. Franco’s car was easy to spot, weaving its way through the pack with a precision she hadn’t expected. He was starting further up this time, P18, but it was still a long shot to even think he’d break into the top ten. Yet as the laps ticked by, he held his ground, pushing, clawing his way forward with a tenacity that had everyone watching in awe.

“Impressive for a rookie,” she overheard another journalist mutter, and she felt a strange pang of pride.

Halfway through the race, Franco made a daring overtake, squeezing past two midfield drivers into P10. She sat forward, barely breathing. He wasn’t just hanging on—he was gaining, going after every single opportunity on the track with a fierceness she hadn’t seen before.

He’d promised her he’d finish higher than last week, and she’d thought it was just talk, maybe a little playful charm. But here he was, proving her wrong lap by lap.

By the time he made it to P9, she was leaning forward in her seat, clutching her notebook tightly. And then, with a bold move on the final few laps, he passed another driver, slipping into P8. Her heart raced as she watched him hold his ground, fending off the competition, determined to keep the position he’d fought so hard for. The chequered flag dropped, and Franco crossed the line in P8.

She exhaled, a rush of surprise and admiration flooding through her. She’d known he was talented, of course—he wouldn’t have made it this far otherwise. But this? Climbing ten positions in a single race, all for a chance to prove himself to her? It was more than she’d expected.

As the race ended, she moved through the paddock, her mind whirling. Franco Colapinto, the charming rookie who flirted with everyone, had just delivered one of the most impressive drives of the day. For her. And she wasn’t sure if she was more impressed with his skill or his determination to keep his word.

She barely had a chance to catch her breath before she was back in the paddock, microphone in hand, ready to take on the post-race interviews. As she waited for Franco, she replayed his climb through the ranks in her mind—his nerve, his timing, the way he’d handled himself on the track. It wasn’t just impressive; it was astonishing. And as much as she tried to shake it off, she couldn’t ignore the small thrill that ran through her at the thought that he’d done it, in part, for her.

Finally, Franco appeared, still in his race suit his face glistening with the sheen of hard work. There was a slight glimmer of triumph in his eyes as he spotted her, a grin spreading across his face. He walked over, ignoring the other cameras and reporters, his gaze focused squarely on her.

She raised her microphone, keeping her expression as neutral as she could. “Franco Colapinto, P8—your second race in Formula 1, and already a massive improvement from last week. Can you walk us through it?”

He took a quick breath, then leaned in, a spark of mischief in his eyes. “Well, you know, someone told me I had to get higher than P12 if I wanted to impress them,” he said, his tone light but his gaze steady on hers. “So I did it for them. Great motivation.”

Heat crept up her neck, and she forced herself to stay focused. She could feel the eyes of the other journalists and team members on them, her colleagues probably smirking at his obvious attempt to fluster her, but she managed to hold her ground.

“Impressive,” she said, keeping her voice level. “And this ‘motivation’—I assume it’s the same one who’s kept you on your toes all week?”

Franco’s grin grew wider, unabashed. “Absolutely. Turns out, when someone challenges me, I take it seriously.” He shifted his stance, his gaze softening just a fraction. “And if they ask, I’ll do it again.”

A few people around them chuckled, and she fought the urge to roll her eyes. This wasn’t the usual post-race banter, and he didn’t seem interested in giving anyone the typical driver answers. He was speaking to her as if they were alone, and for a brief moment, she almost forgot the cameras.

“Well, whatever you’re doing,” she replied, finally letting a small smile slip, “it seems to be working. P8 is no small feat.”

He tilted his head, as if studying her. “Then maybe next week, you’ll set the bar even higher for me?” His voice was low, just enough for her to hear.

She felt her resolve waver slightly, but managed to maintain her professionalism. “We’ll see, Colapinto. For now, let’s just focus on how you plan to keep this up.”

He chuckled, shifting his grip on his helmet. “Oh, I think I have all the motivation I need right here.” With one last grin and a wink, he turned to greet the other journalists, leaving her to process what was easily the most disarming post-race interview she’d ever conducted.

Later that night, she was back in her hotel room, unwinding with a cup of tea, trying to shake off the lingering thrill of Franco’s performance—and his audacity in the post-race interview. She still couldn’t believe how he’d shamelessly directed half of his answers at her, leaving her just as off-balance as he had on the track. But as much as she tried to dismiss it, her thoughts kept circling back to his determination, his promise that he’d push harder just because she’d challenged him.

Her phone buzzed with a message, and she glanced down to see it was from the William’s Instagram Account.

Team Rep: Hey, what’s your room number?

She frowned for a moment, surprised by the casualness of the message. But teams occasionally followed up with journalists for clarifications or comments, especially after high-profile performances like Franco’s. Assuming they needed to drop off some post-race press notes or team statements, she quickly typed back her room number.

Her: Room 914.

Team Rep: Perfect. Thanks.

Not even a minute later, she heard a quiet knock on her door. She glanced at the time, wondering if the team rep had come by himself. But when she opened the door, the hallway was empty. Instead, resting on the floor in front of her was a beautiful bouquet of wildflowers—vibrant, unruly, and charmingly imperfect, wrapped with a small card slipped between the stems.

Her pulse quickened. She didn’t have to check the note to know exactly who had left them.

Still, curiosity got the best of her, and she crouched down, carefully lifting the bouquet to pull the card free.

“To my motivation: thank you for the push. Let’s raise the stakes again soon. — F.

A soft, reluctant smile tugged at her lips. She felt the warmth creeping up her cheeks, aware that Franco Colapinto had managed to surprise her again. It was a move so bold, so unexpected—and, somehow, more genuine than any casual dinner invitation could have been.

She sighed, shaking her head but unable to fight the smile any longer. As she placed the flowers on the table, their vibrant petals catching the soft light, she couldn’t help but wonder what Franco would pull next to prove himself. Because one thing was certain: he wasn’t giving up. And maybe, just maybe, she didn’t want him to.

She couldn’t resist. Picking up her phone, she sent a quick message, keeping it light, casual.

Her: Cute.

It didn’t take long for his response to pop up.

Franco: Oh? You find me cute?

She rolled her eyes, though her heart skipped a beat as she typed back.

Her: No, the flowers were a cute move.

A beat passed, and then came his reply, playful but edged with a hint of something more.

Franco: Well, then… would you let the guy behind the cute move take you out for dinner?

She hesitated, fingers hovering over her phone. She knew what this looked like—a line blurred between work and something personal, maybe too personal. And for him, a rookie who’d just broken into the sport, one misstep could easily become a distraction he couldn’t afford. It wasn’t just her reputation, but his too, and the stakes felt higher than either of them probably realised.

Her: I don’t know, Franco. There’s too much on the line.

A pause, longer than his usual quick responses, and for a moment she thought maybe he’d let it go. Then his reply came through, brief and simple.

Franco: Okay.

She stared at the word, an unexpected pang of disappointment catching her off guard. Franco, usually so persistent, so bold, had accepted her hesitation without a fight. But as much as she wanted to push away her own reservations, she knew she was right. Still, the thought of him backing off now left her feeling… unbalanced.

Setting the phone down, she let out a sigh, glancing over at the flowers resting on her table. A small part of her wondered if maybe, just maybe, she’d made the wrong choice.

Four weeks later, they were back at the track, Austin, the usual energy humming through the paddock as teams and drivers prepared for the weekend ahead. She found herself scanning the garages, a little spark of nerves in her chest that had nothing to do with work. Franco had kept his distance over the past few weeks—well, as much distance as someone like him could manage. He was still his playful, charismatic self with the press, charming everyone in sight, but there was something different. He hadn’t followed up on his dinner invitation, hadn’t tried to push beyond her boundaries. She told herself it was for the best. Still, a small part of her couldn’t shake the feeling that she’d been too cautious.

Just then, she spotted him near the team’s garage, leaning against the wall in his race suit around his hips, deep in conversation with one of his engineers. When he looked up and saw her, his face lit up, a grin breaking across his face as if no time had passed. She felt a little of that old thrill in her chest as he walked over.

“Hola, stranger,” he greeted, hands tucked into his pockets of his team jacket, his voice as warm and casual as ever. “Miss me?”

She rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t help the smile tugging at her lips. “You were just here four weeks ago, Colapinto. Don’t flatter yourself.”

He chuckled, giving her that familiar, playful look. “Four weeks is a long time, don’t you think?”

She shook her head, feeling a bit of the tension from the past month melt away. Whatever her own doubts, Franco hadn’t let her brush-off change him—he was still here, as charming and persistent as ever. And somehow, that lifted a weight off her shoulders.

“Have you been behaving?” she asked, arching an eyebrow. “Or should I be prepared for more unexpected flower deliveries?”

Franco’s grin grew wider, his eyes flashing with that spark she was growing dangerously used to. “Depends. You miss them?”

She laughed softly, looking down to avoid letting him see her smile. “I’d hardly admit that if I did.”

He leaned in just slightly, his voice lowering. “Good thing I’m a patient man, then. Because I’m not done yet.” There was a softness to his tone, a hint of something genuine beneath his usual confidence, and it made her heart skip a beat.

Despite herself, she found comfort in his persistence, in his way of toeing the line between serious and playful without putting any pressure on her. For all his charm, he hadn’t crossed any lines. He was waiting, leaving the door open if she ever wanted to step through.

As he turned to head back toward his car, he glanced over his shoulder, giving her a wink. “You know where to find me if you change your mind, cariño. I’ll be around.”

And with that, he disappeared into the garage, leaving her standing there with a soft smile, feeling just a little lighter, a little braver.

She found herself glued to the screen as the race unfolded, Franco’s car darting through the pack with all the finesse and raw determination she’d come to recognise in him. Starting from P17, he had a long climb ahead of him, and as the laps ticked down, he kept gaining ground, his timing sharp, his decisions bold. He was relentless, working his way through the grid with an intensity that kept her at the edge of her seat.

By the halfway mark, he was already up to P12, and she could feel the anticipation building among the journalists and crew around her. Franco wasn’t just driving; he was fighting for every single position, taking advantage of each moment with an almost calculated risk. And he was doing it with the confidence that had both frustrated and charmed her from the start.

Then, in the final laps, with a daring overtake on the inside line, he claimed P10. A top ten finish. It was almost too perfect—his words from the last race echoing in her mind as he crossed the line: “If they ask, I’ll do it again.”

The paddock was buzzing with excitement as she made her way toward the media pen, preparing herself for the post-race interview. She tried to tamp down the flutter of nerves, reminding herself that he’d been charming his way through interviews with her for weeks now. But there was something different this time, a spark of pride mingled with her excitement, and she couldn’t wait to see him walk in.

When he finally appeared, the smile on his face was brighter than she’d ever seen. Still in his race suit, a towel on his head, he strode over to her with that familiar glint of mischief in his eyes. She raised her microphone, struggling to keep her voice steady.

“Franco Colapinto,” she began, her own smile betraying just a hint of the thrill she felt. “P10 from P17—congratulations. Tell us, how did you manage such an impressive climb?”

He grinned, leaning casually into the microphone. “Well, you know me. I like a good challenge,” he said, his gaze holding hers for a second longer than necessary. “And I couldn’t let down the one person who told me I had to keep improving.”

The implication wasn’t lost on anyone listening, and she felt a blush rise to her cheeks. She rolled her eyes slightly, playing it off as best she could. “Seems like you’re making a habit of climbing positions to impress,” she replied, keeping her tone light.

Franco’s smile softened, turning almost genuine. “For some things,” he said, his voice low enough that only she could hear, “it’s worth the effort.”

She swallowed, momentarily at a loss for words, but managed to pull herself together, keeping the interview rolling. “Well, you’ve certainly earned that P10. What’s the plan for next time? Any more surprise performances in store?”

“Oh, definitely,” he replied, flashing her a grin. “But let’s say I’ll aim higher than P10 next time. If someone out there is willing to set a new challenge for me, I’ll be ready.” His words hung in the air, a subtle invitation that made her heart skip a beat.

She couldn’t hold back her smile as she wrapped up the interview, his gaze lingering on her with that same unspoken promise. And as she watched him walk away, her heart raced with the thrill of what might come next, realising that maybe—just maybe—she was ready to see where this challenge would lead.

As Franco walked away, she felt the lingering warmth of his gaze, that same thrill coursing through her that she’d tried so hard to brush off. But now, it seemed, she wasn’t entirely sure she wanted to. The interview had felt like more than just a casual exchange; his words, his look—there was something real beneath the flirtation, something she found herself wanting to chase.

The rest of the evening passed in a blur of post-race coverage and media duties, but her thoughts kept drifting back to him, to the way his eyes had held hers, steady and genuine, as he’d promised to aim even higher. It was only when she caught herself looking around the paddock, almost instinctively, that she realised she was seeking him out. By then, her professional caution had faded, replaced by something far less reasonable but far more enticing.

She knew she was violating so many unspoken rules as she made her way around the paddock, ducking out of the more crowded paths and slipping past the occasional lingering crew member. A pang of guilt buzzed at the back of her mind, but it was no match for the magnetic pull drawing her toward his driver’s room.

She stopped outside the door, exhaling a shaky breath as her pulse raced with a mix of nerves and anticipation. The hallway was quiet, the sounds of the bustling paddock fading away. Before she could second-guess herself, she raised her hand and knocked softly.

The door opened, and there he was, in a grey tracksuit and plain black top, his expression shifting from surprise to that warm, familiar smile that had always managed to disarm her.

“Well,” he said, leaning against the doorframe, his voice dropping to a low murmur, “I didn’t expect my motivation to show up in person.”

She rolled her eyes, but there was no hiding her smile. “I figured I’d come to make sure you’re planning to keep your word. That climb to P10 wasn’t exactly a small feat.”

His smile softened, and he stepped aside, wordlessly inviting her in. As the door clicked shut behind them, the noise and pressures of the paddock slipped away, leaving just the two of them. The look he gave her—warm, unguarded, and almost vulnerable—made her heart skip a beat.

She’d broken so many of her own rules just to get here, but in this moment, she couldn’t bring herself to regret a single one.

Taking a moment to look around, she noticed his bags were packed and ready for the triple header and that there was nowhere to sit.

She sat on the edge of his bed, trying to look at ease despite the heat rising in her cheeks. Franco stood in front of her, close enough that her knees brushed his legs. The room felt charged with his presence, the quiet intensity in his gaze making it impossible to look away.

“Didn’t think I’d see you here,” he murmured, leaning down a bit. The way his dark eyes lingered on her, sweeping over her face and holding her gaze, sent a rush of warmth through her.

She felt a smile tugging at her lips, trying to keep her voice steady. “Figured I’d make sure you’re holding up after all that hard work.”

He chuckled, his voice low, with just a hint of playfulness. “Oh, I’m holding up just fine.” He reached out, fingers brushing a loose strand of hair from her cheek, letting his thumb linger just a moment too long against her skin. “In fact, I think I’m doing better than fine.”

Her cheeks flushed even deeper, but she held his gaze, determined not to let him throw her off-balance—at least not completely. “You know,” she said, trying to match his tone, “you don’t have to turn everything into a line, Colapinto.”

Franco tilted his head, a smile playing on his lips. “Only with you, cariño.”

She let out a soft laugh, her heartbeat picking up as he moved closer, until he was standing right between her legs. She felt his fingers trace gently along her jawline, his thumb tilting her chin up so she was looking directly into his eyes.

“Not used to being flirted with, cariño?” he asked softly, his voice smooth and teasing.

She swallowed, feeling her blush deepen as her usual composure slipped. “No… not like this.”

“Shame,” he murmured, his thumb grazing her cheek as his eyes searched hers, warm and intent. His voice softened, and the playfulness gave way to something more genuine. “Because I’m just getting started.”

She felt her breath hitch, her pulse racing as his words sank in, leaving her both disarmed and impossibly drawn in. And in that moment, she realised that every wall she’d put up around him was slipping away, piece by piece.

For a moment, she couldn’t take her eyes off him, the air between them thick with anticipation. Then, she noticed the small silver chain dangling from his neck, glinting faintly against the fabric of his black top, and without thinking, she reached up, wrapping her fingers around it gently.

Franco’s gaze flickered in surprise, his breath catching as she tugged on the chain, pulling him just close enough that their faces were inches apart. She could feel the warmth radiating from him, and the intensity of his gaze sent a thrill through her that made her heart pound. His hands settled on either side of her hips as he leaned in, their breaths mingling in the charged silence.

Before she could talk herself out of it, she closed the space between them, pressing her lips to his. The kiss was tentative at first, soft and exploratory, but the warmth in his response was immediate. His hand slid up her back, pulling her closer, and she felt his fingers tangling in her hair as he deepened the kiss, his touch gentle yet confident.

She didn’t realise how tightly she was gripping his chain until she felt his hand cover hers, his thumb tracing lightly over her knuckles as if to say, I’m here.

When they finally parted, both of them slightly breathless, Franco looked at her, hand caressing her cheek, his smile soft and real, devoid of his usual playfulness. He looked at her with a quiet intensity that made her stomach flip.

“You know," he started, his voice dipping into that smooth, charming tone, “I thought I never had a chance with you. You made me work for every single look, every smile…” He shook his head, his hand still resting against her cheek, his thumb brushing just beneath her jaw. “I was convinced you’d never actually let me get this close.”

She felt a warm, amused smile tugging at her lips as she listened to him, his words genuine but tinged with that familiar, playful charm. Watching him, her heart surged with an undeniable impulse, one she didn’t want to ignore any longer. In one fluid motion, she slid her hand around the back of his neck and pulled him down, pressing her lips to his again with a fierce, unrestrained intensity that sent sparks through her.

Franco’s surprise melted instantly, his hands slipping from her cheek to either side of her hips, matching her passion. The kiss deepened, turning slower, almost reverent, as if neither of them wanted the moment to end. She could feel his pulse racing under her hands, his warmth overwhelming in the most exhilarating way.

Without breaking the kiss, she leaned back, drawing him down with her onto the bed. She felt his weight settle gently over her, his hands bracing on either side of her as he kissed her with a hunger that felt both new and inevitable. When he finally pulled back just slightly, his lips hovering over hers, his voice was breathless, a bit dazed.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this,” he murmured, his fingers tracing down her arm as he held her gaze, a vulnerable softness there she hadn’t seen before.

“Good,” she whispered back, her own voice unsteady, feeling as though her walls were completely gone now. “Because I don’t plan on making it easy for you.”

A soft chuckle escaped his lips as he leaned down, his mouth finding hers again with an eagerness that left them both completely lost in each other, as if the rest of the world had faded away.

Maybe he was worth the wait.

the end.

[aceyalonso]

a winners celebration - LANDO NORRIS

pairing : lando norris x best friend!reader

summary : win celebrations look a little different for lando norris this time around

warnings/notes : swearing, drinking, smut, unprotected sex (please use a condom!), overstimulation, fingering, hair pulling, oral (both!receiving), praise kink, use of "baby" and "good girl", pussydrunk!lando lowkey, 69, dacryphilia

word count : 5.3k

a/n : i miss race weekends | there's a lot more plot to this compared to the previous days

main masterlist | kinktober masterlist

September 22, 2024 - 10:36 PM

Lando was riding a high of adrenaline and joy as the checkered flag waved at the finish line, signaling his victory at the Singapore Grand Prix. His team swarmed around him, celebrating and congratulating him for the hard-earned win, but it was the person waiting in the pit stands that caught his eye.

Y/n stood there, smiling and waving, watching Lando's success. He couldn't help but grin wider, seeing his best friend's proud expression. He knew that she had been there cheering him on, supporting him every step of the way.

Lando quickly shook off the other team members, making his way over to where Y/n stood. He walked with a slight swagger, still riding the high of the race win. Once he reached his friend, he flashed a cocky smirk, before enveloping her in a tight hug.

"Told you I'd win." He murmured jokingly, pulling back to look Y/n in the eye.

Y/n laughed, returning the hug and rolling their eyes. "Yeah, yeah. You're so full of yourself." She teased playfully, punching him lightly in the arm.

Lando just chuckled, shrugging. "Hey, can you blame me? I just won the damn race. I feel like I could take on the world right now."

She chuckled at his boastful statement, shaking her head in amusement. "More like your ego could take on the world. Careful, your head might not fit through the doors anymore if it gets any bigger."

He gasped in mock offense. "Hey, my head is the perfect size, thank you very much." Lando protested jokingly, running a hand through his hair. "Besides, you love my ego and you know it."

Y/n rolled her eyes again, but couldn't help but smile. "Yeah, yeah. Your ego is just so charming, how could I resist." She replied sarcastically, pretending to swoon.

Lando looked at Y/n apologetically. "I hate to cut this short, but I gotta go give some interviews and stuff. But I'll meet you in the hotel lobby in a bit, and we'll go out and celebrate. Sound good?"

She nodded, understanding. "Yeah, no worries. Go do your press stuff." Y/n said with a smile. "I'll see you in a bit in the lobby."

Lando nodded, already turning to walk away when he suddenly stopped and turned back, a mischievous grin on his face. He leaned in, placing a quick kiss on Y/n's cheek before realizing what he'd just done.

He froze, realizing how he may have crossed a line. He quickly blurted out a "thank you" and turned away, heading off to do his interviews while leaving Y/n shocked and confused by the unexpected display of affection.

Y/n was left standing there, feeling her cheek where Lando had kissed her before walking away. They were both shocked and confused by his actions, unsure of what to make of it.

Y/n took a moment to compose herself, shaking her head to snap out of the daze and heading back to the hotel. As she walked, she couldn't stop thinking about the kiss on the cheek. Did it mean something, or was it just a spontaneous act in the heat of the moment? Y/n wasn't sure, but the thought of it made her chest flutter.

September 22, 2024 - 11:43 PM

An hour or so later, Y/n was waiting in the hotel lobby, just as they had agreed upon. She was sitting on a plush couch in the lobby, scrolling through her phone, when suddenly, they heard a familiar voice say, "Hey, there you are."

Y/n looked up from her phone to see Lando strolling toward her, looking more casual now that he wasn't in his race suit. He was wearing a simple shirt and jeans, his hair tousled and messy from the helmet. He gave her a charming grin as he approached.

"Sorry to keep you waiting. The interviews took longer than I thought they would." He said, sitting down next to Y/n on the couch.

"It's all good," Y/n replied with a smile. "At least you're free now, and we can go out and celebrate."

Lando leaned back on the couch, stretching his arms above his head. "Yeah, I'm all yours now. So, what's the plan for the night?"

Y/n stood up, a mischievous gleam in her eye. "Alright, we're going out for drinks. I know a great bar nearby that has the best cocktails. Sound good?"

Lando groaned as she grabbed his wrist, pulling him up from the couch. "Hey, can a guy get a little break after winning a Grand Prix? I just sat down." He protested jokingly, feigning resistance.

Y/n just laughed, not releasing her grip on his wrist. "Nope, no breaks. We're going out to celebrate. Come on, get up." She tugged him lightly, urging him to follow her.

Lando rolled his eyes but couldn't help but smile at her enthusiasm. "Fine, fine. I'll come, but only because you're practically dragging me out the door." He grumbled dramatically.

She smiled as she led Lando out of the hotel, still holding onto his wrist. "And the bar is just a few minutes walk from here, so it's not far," she said, glancing at him. "Plus, some fresh air will do you good. You probably need to clear your head from all those interviews, anyway."

Lando huffed in agreement, secretly enjoying the feeling of her holding onto him. "Yeah, the interviews were exhausting. I swear, they ask the same damn questions every time. I could give all the answers in my sleep at this point."

Y/n chuckled, giving his wrist a playful tug. "Don't get yourself too worked up. We're here to have fun tonight, remember? No thinking about interviews or racing or any of that stuff."

Lando smiled, nodding in agreement. "You're right, you're right. Tonight is all about letting loose and celebrating. No work, no racing… just us and some good drinks."

She grinned at that, and they continued walking until they reached the bar. The place was buzzing with energy, music could be heard from inside, and the neon signs above the door flickered alluringly.

Lando gazed at the bar, seeing the lively atmosphere within. "Looks like this place is popular," he commented, looking down at Y/n. "How did you even find this place, anyway?"

Y/n looked up at Lando, a smile on her lips as she answered his question. "Oh, I came here with Alexandra for a girls' night out a few months ago. It's a pretty cool spot. Good drinks and good music."

Lando raised an eyebrow. "Oh, so you've already been here? And you didn't tell me about it until now?" He feigned indignation, giving her a playful nudge with his elbow.

Y/n shrugged her shoulders, a playful smirk on her face. "Hey, it's not my fault you were partying it up in Ibiza while I was here in Singapore. You weren't exactly available for bar hopping."

Lando chuckled at that, conceding her point. "Alright, alright, fair enough. I was having a blast in Ibiza, but I guess I missed out on some good bars here in Singapore."

Y/n gave Lando a teasing smile before guiding him into the bar. The music inside was even more vibrant, the sound of laughter and conversation filling the air. They found a spot at the bar, and Y/n gestured for Lando to sit down next to her.

Lando took a seat on the barstool next to Y/n, glancing around the place. The bar was dimly lit, with colorful lights casting a warm, inviting glow over everything. People were gathered around, chatting and enjoying their drinks, adding to the lively atmosphere.

Y/n called the bartender over and ordered a cocktail for herself. Then, she turned to Lando and asked, "What do you want to drink? Something strong, or something a bit fancier?"

He contemplated for a moment, leaning against the bar. "Hmm, I'm feeling like something classic tonight. I think I'll go with a gin and tonic."

She nodded, relaying Lando's order to the bartender. "One gin and tonic for the grand prix winner, please," Y/n said with a smile. The bartender nodded and began preparing their orders.

Lando chuckled at Y/n's remark, his ego slightly boosted. "You know, I could get used to you calling me a grand prix winner." He said, a hint of pride in his voice.

Y/n chuckled and rolled her eyes at Lando's comment. "Oh, come on. This isn't your first win, Norris. You've won two races before this one, remember?"

He glanced at Y/n, a sly smile on his lips. "Yeah, but this time it's different. You were actually here to witness my win. And I must say, it felt fucking good."

Y/n smiled mischievously, deciding to tease Lando a bit. She leaned closer to him, a playful glint in her eyes. "Oh, I see what's going on here. You have such a huge crush on me, don't you?"

Lando chuckled at her remark and responded with a hint of banter, "Hey, hey, that was high school, alright? We're adults now. We've moved on and grown past all that silly crush stuff."

Y/n chuckled as well, enjoying their playful banter. "Is that so? So you're saying you don't have a crush on me anymore?" She raised an eyebrow, a knowing smile on her face.

He rolled his eyes, trying to maintain a nonchalant expression. "Yeah, yeah, I've totally moved on. No more silly crushes here." He took a sip of his gin and tonic, clearly not fooling Y/n for a second.

She just smiled, not believing him for a moment. She knew Lando well enough to know that he was just playing tough. "Uh-huh, sure you have. And the moon is made of cheese, right? And pigs can fly."

Lando huffed in mock indignation, trying to keep up his act. "Hey, I'll have you know, I'm a sophisticated man now. I don't have crushes like some high school kid. That's all in the past."

Y/n couldn't help but laugh loudly at Lando's statement. "Oh, because those flings totally prove you're over crushes and completely sophisticated now, right?" She teased with a smirk.

He rolled his eyes but couldn't help but smile at her sarcasm. "Alright, alright, fine. Maybe I've had a few flings and whatnot, but that doesn't prove anything. That's just casual stuff, not the same as having a crush."

She grinned and rolled her eyes again, amused by Lando's attempts to deny his feelings. "Oh, c'mon, finish your drink. We're here here to celebrate and let loose. Let's go out there and dance a little, shall we?"

Lando downed the rest of his gin and tonic with a smirk. "Alright, alright, you've convinced me. Let's go dance." He stood up from his barstool, offering a hand to Y/n.

Y/n took his hand with a smile and hopped off her own barstool, following Lando toward the dance floor of the bar. The music was pumping, the lights were flashing, and a group of people were already dancing on the floor.

He led her into the midst of the dance floor, finding a spot for them to dance. As the music played, they both started swaying and moving to the beat. With each step and move, their bodies would occasionally brush against each other, sending sparks of electricity through them.

She could feel her pulse quickening as she danced with Lando. Their bodies moved in sync with the music, each step bringing them closer together. The atmosphere was electrifying with Lando so close, the heat between them undeniable

Lando's fingers gently traced small circles on her hip, the touch sending shivers down her spine. The music and the people around them seemed to fade into the background as they swayed together, their eyes locked onto each other.

He couldn't resist pulling her even closer, their bodies now pressed against each other. Lando's arm wrapped around her waist, holding her in place as they continued to move to the music. Her scent, the way she felt against him, it was driving him wild.

Lando's lips, hot and needy, began to trail kisses down her neck, his grip on her waist tightening slightly. Everywhere his lips touched sent a rush of heat through her body, a small gasp escaping her lips.

His tongue darted out, tracing a path along her sensitive skin, his lips alternating between soft kisses and lingering nibbles. The sensation was maddening, her mind clouding with desire as he continued his exploration of her neck.

A soft moan escaped Y/n's lips as Lando continued his assault on her neck. Her hands clutched at the fabric of his shirt, her body arching against his. "L-Lando," she gasped softly, her voice filled with a mixture of need and desire.

Y/n's words were barely above a whisper, her voice hoarse with need. "Not here," she repeated, her cheeks flushed with a mix of embarrassment and desire. Lando had the exact same thought running through his mind.

Lando pulled back reluctantly, his lips leaving her neck with a final lingering kiss. He looked at her, his eyes darkened with lust, taking in her flushed cheeks and the way she was gripping his shirt. He knew exactly what she meant, and the same need was burning through him.

"Let's go," Lando murmured, his voice low and rough with desire. He took her hand in his, the skin-to-skin contact sending another jolt of electricity through them.

The two of them practically sprinted out of the bar, the cool night air doing little to cool their ardor. The hotel wasn't far, but the short walk felt like an eternity as their bodies practically ached with desire.

They reached the hotel lobby, their breaths coming out in slightly ragged pants. Lando led Y/n towards the elevator, practically hitting the button to call it impatiently. As they waited, Lando turned towards Y/n, his eyes filled with a mixture of desire and need.

As the elevator doors open, Lando gently shoved Y/n into the elevator with the doors quickly closing behind them. As the elevator began to move upwards, Lando backed her against the wall of the elevator, trapping her between his body and the cold metal.

Lando wasted no time, his lips finding hers in a searing kiss. His hands came up to cup her face, holding her in place as his tongue darted out to trace the seam of her lips.

The kiss grew more intense, and Y/n found herself responding to him. Her body melted against his, her hands gripping his shoulders as a soft moan escaped her lips. "Lando…" she whispered, her voice filled with need.

The elevator continued to ascend, and Y/n's mind was clouded with need. Lando's lips left hers briefly, only to blaze a trail of hot kisses down her neck. She found herself arching against him, whispering "More…please" as her body ached for his touch.

Lando seemed encouraged by her pleading, his hands roaming her body as his lips continued their assault on her neck. He pressed his body against hers, his hips slowly rutting against her in a teasing rhythm.

"Gods, you're driving me crazy," Lando muttered, his voice hoarse with desire. His hands moved lower, cupping her hips and pulling her impossibly close so they were flush against each other.

Lando grudgingly pulled back, reluctantly detaching his mouth from Y/N's neck. The elevator doors opened with a soft 'ding,' signaling they had reached his floor. Lando stepped back, reluctantly removing his hands from her hips.

His eyes burned as he looked at her; her lips slightly swollen, skin flushed, and hair disheveled. The sight of her sent another jolt of need through him, but he managed to resist the urge to pull her back into his arms. Instead, he gestured for her to follow him down the hallway towards his hotel room.

Lando fumbled with the key card, opening the door to his room. He ushered Y/N inside, his eyes never leaving her. The moment the door shut behind them, Lando pushed Y/N against it, and the sound of the door slamming echoed in the quiet room.

His body pressed against hers, trapping her between the cool wood of the door and his warm, solid frame. His hands found her wrists, pinning them above her head as his lips crashed against hers in a passionate, bruising kiss.

Y/n and Lando were both feeling the effects of the alcohol they had consumed earlier that night. Their inhibitions lowered, they found themselves drawn to each other, their bodies pressed close together as they made out passionately against the door.

Y/n's heart raced as Lando's lips met hers, their tongues entwining in a sensual dance. She could feel the heat radiating off his body, his strong hands roaming over her curves. The sensation sent shivers down her spine, and she couldn't help but let out a soft moan.

Lando's hands slid down to Y/n's hips, pulling her even closer to him. He could feel her soft breasts pressing against his chest, and it only fueled his desire for her. His lips trailed down to her neck, leaving a path of hot kisses along her skin.

Y/n tilted her head back, giving Lando better access to her sensitive neck. She could feel his teeth grazing her skin, and it sent a jolt of pleasure through her body. Her hands reached up to tangle in his hair, holding him close as he continued his assault on her senses.

Lando's strong arms easily lifted Y/n, carrying her over to the nearby bed. Her legs instinctively wrapped around his waist as he laid her down gently on the soft mattress. The movement caused her short dress to ride up, revealing the tantalizing sight of her light blue lace panties.

Lando's breath caught in his throat at the erotic view. He drank in the sight of Y/n's long, toned legs and the delicate fabric barely covering her most intimate area. Desire coursed through his veins, his arousal growing with each passing second.

Y/n looked up at Lando with lust-filled eyes, a coy smile playing on her lips. She could see the hunger in his gaze as it roamed over her body. Slowly, teasingly, she reached down and hooked her fingers in the waistband of her panties.

"Do you like what you see, Lando?" Y/n purred, her voice low and seductive. She slowly started to slide the lace down her legs, revealing more of her smooth, creamy skin, before putting them back on teasingly.

Lando knelt before Y/n, his hands gently caressing her thighs as he leaned in to leave a trail of hot kisses along her smooth skin. "God, I fucking love this view," he murmured, his voice husky with desire. "You're so pretty, so perfect."

Y/n shivered with anticipation as Lando's lips moved higher and higher up her thighs. She could feel the heat of his breath on her sensitive skin, and it only heightened her arousal. Her fingers tangled in his hair, guiding him closer to her aching core.

Lando's fingers hooked into the waistband of Y/n's panties, slowly pulling them down and off her legs. He tossed them aside, his eyes feasting on the glistening wetness between her thighs. "You're so wet for me, baby," he growled, his voice thick with lust.

Unable to resist any longer, Lando leaned in and ran his tongue along Y/n's slit, savoring the taste of her arousal. She let out a gasp, her hips bucking against his face as he continued to explore her most intimate area with his tongue.

Y/n's moans grew louder and more frequent as Lando devoured her like a man starved. His tongue delved deep into her dripping folds, lapping up her arousal. He alternated between broad strokes and targeted flicks against her sensitive clit, driving her wild with pleasure.

"Oh god, Lando! Yes, just like that!" Y/n cried out, her voice trembling with ecstasy. Her fingers tightened in his hair, holding him firmly against her as she ground her hips against his face. The obscene sounds of his mouth on her pussy filled the room, mixing with her moans.

Lando groaned against her, the vibrations adding to her pleasure. He could feel her thighs beginning to quiver and tense around his head, signaling her impending release. Determined to bring her over the edge, he redoubled his efforts, sucking hard on her clit as he thrust two fingers deep inside her tight cunt.

Y/n's eyes flew open as she felt Lando's fingers suddenly plunge into her wet heat. She looked down at him, her eyes wide and filled with shock and arousal. Their gazes locked, and the intensity of the moment sent a jolt of electricity through her body.

Lando's fingers pumped in and out of her, curling to hit that special spot inside her that made her see stars. His thumb rubbed circles on her clit, the dual stimulation pushing her closer and closer to the edge.

"Eyes on me, baby," he commanded, his voice muffled against her sensitive flesh. "I want to see your face when you cum."

Y/n's breath came in short, sharp gasps as Lando's fingers worked their magic inside her. She couldn't tear her eyes away from his, the connection between them only heightening her pleasure. Her body tensed, the coil of tension in her lower belly winding tighter and tighter.

Lando could sense her impending orgasm, and he doubled down on his efforts. He sucked hard on her clit, his fingers pumping furiously in and out of her dripping cunt. He wanted to feel her come undone, to watch her face as she lost herself in the throes of passion.

With a final flick of his tongue and a deep thrust of his fingers, Y/n finally reached her breaking point. Her body convulsed, her back arching off the bed as wave after wave of intense pleasure crashed over her. "Lando!" she screamed, his name falling from her lips like a prayer.

Lando continued to work her through her orgasm, his fingers and tongue bringing her down from the high. As her body went limp, he pulled back and looked up at her with a satisfied grin. "That's it, baby."

Lando stood up, his face glistening with Y/n's juices. His eyes were dark with lust, his cock straining against the confines of his pants. With a growl, he quickly stripped off his clothes, tossing them haphazardly on the floor until he stood before her completely naked.

Y/n's gaze roamed over his muscular body, taking in every inch of his tanned skin and hard planes. Her eyes zeroed in on his impressive erection, standing proud and ready. She licked her lips, already craving more of him.

Lando climbed onto the bed, crawling over Y/n's prone form. He hovered above her, his hips nestled between her thighs. "I need to be inside you," he rasped, his voice rough with desire. "I need to feel your tight little pussy wrapped around my cock."

Y/n wrapped her legs around his waist, using her heels to urge him closer. "Then take me," she breathed, her nails raking down his back. "Fuck me hard, Lando. Make me yours."

Lando positioned himself at Y/n's entrance, the head of his cock teasing her slick folds. He could feel the heat emanating from her core, beckoning him to plunge into her depths. With a swift thrust of his hips, he buried himself inside her, groaning at the exquisite sensation of her tight walls enveloping him.

"Oh fuck, you feel amazing," Lando grunted, his hands gripping her hips as he began to move. He set a relentless pace, his thick cock stretching and filling her with each powerful thrust.

Y/n's head fell back, her eyes fluttering closed as she reveled in the feeling of being so thoroughly claimed by Lando. Her nails dug into his shoulders, her hips rising to meet his every stroke. "Yes, just like that!" she cried out, her voice a mix of pleasure and desperation.

Lando's thrusts grew harder and faster, his balls slapping against her ass as he drove into her again and again. He could feel her tightening around him, her body responding to his every move. "You're so fucking tight," he growled, his fingers digging into the flesh of her hips.

Y/n's body tensed, her back arching off the bed as her second orgasm crashed over her. "Oh god, Lando! I'm cumming!" she screamed, her walls clamping down around his throbbing cock.

The sensation of her coming undone around him pushed Lando over the edge. With a final, powerful thrust, he buried himself deep inside her, his cock pulsing as he released his load. But instead of staying inside her, he pulled out at the last moment, his hot seed spurting onto her stomach and breasts.

"Fuck, Y/n," Lando groaned, his hips jerking as he emptied himself onto her. Pulling out, he watched as his cum coated her skin, marking her as his.

Barely giving Y/n a moment to catch her breath, Lando lifted her up. His strong hands gripped her hips, lifting her up and positioning her so that she was straddling his face. "I'm not done with you yet," he growled, his voice muffled against her dripping folds.

Y/n gasped as she felt Lando's tongue delve into her sensitive cunt, his lips and teeth nipping at her swollen clit. Her hands braced against the headboard, her body already trembling with renewed arousal.

Lando's hands gripped her ass, spreading her open for him as he devoured her like a man possessed. He alternated between long, slow licks and quick flicks of his tongue, driving her wild with pleasure.

"Oh fuck, Lando!" Y/n cried out, her hips grinding against his face. She could feel another orgasm building, the coil of tension in her belly winding tighter and tighter.

Y/n's eyes drifted down to Lando's cock, still rock hard and glistening with their combined juices. A wicked grin spread across her face as she leaned down, her breasts pressing against his thighs as she brought her lips to the tip of his member.

She placed a soft kiss on the head, her tongue darting out to lap up the drops of precum. Lando groaned against her pussy, the vibrations sending shockwaves of pleasure through her body. Encouraged by his reaction, Y/n took him into her mouth, her lips stretching around his girth.

In the 69 position, they pleasured each other with reckless abandon. Y/n bobbed her head up and down his shaft, taking him deeper into her throat with each pass. Lando's tongue delved into her folds, lapping up her sweet nectar as he brought her closer and closer to the edge.

As Lando's tongue worked its magic on Y/n's sensitive clit, she could feel her orgasm building rapidly. Her hips bucked against his face, her moans muffled by his thick cock filling her mouth. She took him deeper, her throat constricting around him as she gagged on his length.

Lando's own pleasure mounted, his cock twitching in Y/n's mouth as he approached his climax. He could feel her tightening around him, her body trembling with the force of her impending release. With a final, powerful thrust of his tongue, he sent her over the edge.

Y/n's scream of ecstasy was cut off by Lando's cock as he erupted in her mouth. Her eyes watered, tears streaming down her face as she struggled to swallow his hot seed. The sensation of his cum hitting the back of her throat only intensified her own orgasm, her body shaking uncontrollably as wave after wave of pleasure crashed over her.

Lando's insatiable desire for Y/n showed no signs of abating. As they both came down from their intense orgasms, he pulled her off his body, repositioning her so that she was straddling him. He leaned back against the headboard, his hands gripping her hips as he guided her onto his still-hard cock.

"Ride me, baby," Lando growled, his voice thick with lust. "I want to feel you bouncing on my dick."

Y/n's body was still trembling from the aftershocks of her orgasm, her eyes glazed over with a mix of pleasure and exhaustion. She placed her hands on his chest for balance, slowly lowering herself onto his throbbing member. A soft gasp escaped her lips as he stretched her once again, filling her completely.

She began to move, her hips rising and falling in a steady rhythm. Lando's hands roamed over her body, squeezing her breasts and pinching her nipples as she rode him. The combination of pain and pleasure only served to heighten her arousal, her walls clenching around him with each thrust.

Y/n's movements became more erratic, her body struggling to keep up with the relentless pace Lando had set. "I can't... I can't take anymore," she whimpered, her voice barely above a whisper.

Lando's grip on her hips tightened, his fingers digging into her soft flesh. "Be a good girl f' me," he commanded, his voice low and authoritative. "I know you can take another round."

Tears streamed down Y/n's face as she tried to comply with his demands. Her body felt like it was on fire, every nerve ending screaming for relief. But the thought of letting Lando down was too much to bear. She gritted her teeth, pushing through the pain and exhaustion as she continued to ride him.

Lando could sense her struggle, but he refused to relent. He wanted to push her to her limits, to see just how much she could take. His cock throbbed inside her, the sensation of her tight walls clenching around him driving him closer to the edge.

Despite her exhaustion, Y/n found the strength to continue riding Lando's cock. Her hips moved in a steady rhythm, rising and falling as she took him deep inside her. The pain and pleasure mixed together, creating a heady cocktail that left her dizzy with sensation.

Lando's hands roamed over her body, squeezing and kneading her soft flesh. He pinched her nipples, twisting them slightly as he watched her face contort with a mix of pain and pleasure. "That's it, baby," he growled, his voice low and rough. "Take it all for me."

Y/n's moans grew louder, her body trembling with the effort of keeping up with Lando's relentless pace. She could feel another orgasm building, the coil of tension in her belly winding tighter and tighter.

Lando could sense her impending release, and he doubled his efforts. His hips bucked up to meet her downward thrusts, his cock hitting that special spot inside her that made her see stars. "Cum for me, Y/n," he demanded, his voice thick with lust.

Y/n's body tensed, her back arching as she felt her orgasm approaching. She gritted her teeth, pushing herself to the limit as she rode Lando's cock with increasing fervor. Her walls began to flutter around him, signaling her imminent release.

"Oh god, Lando!" she cried out, her voice raw with emotion. "I'm going to cum!"

Lando's grip on her hips tightened, his fingers digging into her flesh as he thrust up into her with powerful strokes. "That's it, baby," he growled, his own release building. "Let go for me. Cum all over my cock."

With a final, desperate thrust, Y/n reached her breaking point. Her body convulsed, her walls clamping down around Lando's throbbing member as she came undone. The sensation of her tightening around him was too much for Lando to bear, and with a guttural groan, he erupted inside her, his hot seed filling her with each powerful pulse.

As they both came down from their intense orgasms, Lando leaned forward, capturing Y/n's lips in a passionate kiss. His hands caressed her face, his thumbs wiping away the tears that still clung to her lashes. "You did so good, baby," he murmured against her lips. "I'm so proud of you."

Y/n's body went limp, her head resting on Lando's shoulder as she tried to catch her breath. She could feel his cock still inside her, softening but not yet fully withdrawn. The sensation was comforting, a reminder of the incredible pleasure they had just shared.

Lando continued to pepper her face with gentle kisses, his lips trailing along her jawline and down her neck. "You're amazing," he whispered, his voice filled with admiration and affection.

taglist

for all posts; @nepobbylver @wobblymug @xoscar03 @irishmanwhore

kinktober taglist; @cloud-55 @emryb @sie17136 @jaimeleannavanlloman @wosof1 @wholetmewritethat @glitterbitch1 @under-seasoned-pasta @sinners-98-world

[astonmartinii]

cutie patooties | max verstappen social media au

pairing: max verstappen x fem leclerc!reader

just them terrorising the world with their cuteness (and collecting the younger drivers)

MASTERLIST | TIP JAR | SMALL BUSINESS

yourusername

liked by arthurleclerc, maxverstappen1 and 1,209,455 others

tagged: maxverstappen1

yourusername: he loves redline more than me 🙄

view all comments

user1: obsessed with how she's like "oh you wanna ship max with my brother" and then takes lestappen out back and shoots them

user2: as she should, she's the cutest leclerc by far

yourusername: true 😙

maxverstappen1: double true 😘

charles_leclerc: die.

yourusername: erm consider your ass REPORTED THIS IS HARASSMENT

maxverstappen1: did you just threaten my girlfriend ????

charles_leclerc: and what?

maxverstappen1: pull up, i'm outside

charles_leclerc: ???? leave ????

maxverstappen1: no i'm deadass don't disrespect my gf 😤😤😤

charles_leclerc: it's my SISTER

yourusername: when he's protective 😛😛😛

user3: screaming, crying, throwing up over the keychain

user4: i need someone *cough, cough* them to recreate it 🥸

landonorris: YOU WENT TO THE LEGO STORE WITHOUT ME? YOUR FAVOURITE CHILD?

yourusername: watch your tone

maxverstappen1: god forbid i want to spend time with my GIRLFRIEND on a DATE

landonorris: that's not a valid excuse

yourusername: also bold of you to assume you're our favourite child when oscar, yuki and logan are right there

oscarpiastri: snooze you lose lando

yukitsunoda0511: suck on that lando

logansargent: i'm just happy to be included

landonorris: damn...

maxverstappen1

liked by yourusername, danielricciardo and 1,203,513 others

tagged: charles_leclerc & yourusername

maxverstappen1: spent the weekend bothering my girlfriend's brother, what about you?

view all comments

user9: the way charles put his ferrari cap on y/n only for max to throw it into the crowd and put his own on her head instead

user10: those who know max's attachment to his caps, this is big.

yourusername: winning looks so sexy oh my

maxverstappen1: blushing like a motherfucker

yourusername: skip the debrief? they won't notice?

maxverstappen1: i think they might notice the driver of the race they're analysing not being there

yourusername: show them the pic i just sent you, they can't say no to my puppy dog eyes

maxverstappen1: helmut said fuck off 💔

yourusername: tell him i have a present for him (it's a pack of salt and vinegar crisps and a pamphlet for caskets)

user11: @yourusername winning IS sexy, tell your bf to tell charles win

yourusername: if charles wins it's suddenly decidedly unsexy, this isn't game of thrones babe

charles_leclerc: you ARE annoying that's right

maxverstappen1: annoyingly sexy

charles_leclerc: no comment, we're going to be family at some point soon

maxverstappen1: DAMN RIGHT WE ARE

yourusername: if you think we're annoying now, oh boy.

user12: i need max and y/n to be engaged right this fucking moment

user13: i think it would actually make my year

user14: after the championship win queen @maxverstappen1 ?

yourusername

liked by danielricciardo, oscarpiastri and 1,562,044 others

tagged: maxverstappen1

yourusername: @ the person who asked how much max weighs... god will deal with you

view all comments

user15: i'm obsessed with how obsessed they are with each other

user16: is max's wardrobe all red bull merch and t-shirts dedicated to y/n?

maxverstappen1: yes 😌

danielricciardo: i saw the clip... the time stamp was 3am - we RACE TODAY?

yourusername: i am happy to support my man's hobby

danielricciardo: yes but you also don't have to race with that man on three hours of sleep

yourusername: be real daniel, the only time you'll be close to max is when he laps you xxx

danielricciardo: EXCUSE ME??? MAX YOU GONNA LET YOUR GIRLFRIEND TALK TO YOUR FIRST LOVE LIKE THAT?

maxverstappen1: bold of you to assume you were my first love

danielricciardo: did on the couch mean nothing to you?

maxverstappen1: soz buddy this is a childhood friends to lovers narrative right now (and we were already together by the time i was at red bull)

charles_leclerc: WHAT?

yourusername: spare me the dramatics, you guys were deep in the ANGST and then austria happened so really it's your own fault that it took as long as it did

user17: one comment section where the girls aren't fighting? impossible.

oscarpiastri: omg the shirts look so good y/n !!

yourusername: we're ✨graphic designers✨

maxverstappen1: does having a dashingly handsome model help

yourusername: of course !!!!!

oscarpiastri: i'm not going to answer that question

maxverstappen1: :(

oscarpiastri: on another thought - yes!

yourusername: @landonorris this is why he's one of the favourites

landonorris: i'm not talking to yall

maxverstappen1

liked by fernandoalo_oficial, yourusername and 1,309,556 others

tagged: yourusername

maxverstappen1: weekend off racing means shenanigans and late night streaming

view all comments

user20: i know whatever poor soul went for dinner with them hated every second

yukitsunoda0511: working on being the favourite of the favourite children 🫡 and they paid for my meal at a really cool italian restaurant

oscarpiastri: game on

yourusername: so who is the lady and who is the tramp?

danielricciardo: THAT'S A TRICK QUESTION MAX DON'T ANSWER IT

maxverstappen1: you're not a lady... you're a queen 😘

yourusername: did you just fail the test, successfully?

danielricciardo: you smooth motherfucker

yourusername: stole your red bull drive and your nickname @carlossainz55

carlossainz55: why am i catching strays?

yourusername: bored ❤️

user21: y/n really be like "oh the season's boring cause my bf wins everything? let me make it interesting by shading every driver on the grid"

maxverstappen1: do NOT give her a challenge

charles_leclerc: can you PLEASE stop taking such lovey dovey gross ass photos maman keeps getting them printed and I AM GETTING MOVED OFF OF THE MANTEL PIECE I AM ON THE BOOKSHELF, THIS FACE IS A MANTEL PIECE FACE NOT A BOOKSHELF FACE

yourusername: not reading all of that, i'm happy for you or sad that happened x

charles_leclerc: MAX DO SOMETHNG

maxverstappen1: step your pussy up bro

yourusername: when he catches your lingo >>

charles_leclerc: i am a VICTIM

yourusername

liked by arthurleclerc, landonorris and 1,450,387 others

tagged: maxverstappen1 & charles_leclerc

yourusername: invented babygirlism actually

view all comments

user22: y/n is so real for choosing a cute recent photo for herself and then just violating the guys

user23: she's funny as fuck for that

charles_leclerc: finally some fucking credit

yourusername: not everything can be about you all of the time 🤨

charles_leclerc: don't make me an ankle-biter again you're PUSHING ME

sebastianvettel: knew you were an ankle biter

yourusername: LOL

charles_leclerc: no seb no! i didn't bite ankles, just y/n's and that doesn't count

user24: what the fuck is going on here

maxverstappen1: you are the most babygirl to ever babygirl

danielricciardo: i think i had a stroke reading that

yourusername: awwwww you're so cute maxy

maxverstappen1: knew you were the one for me when we first met karting, you taught me the babygirl ways

yourusername: and you're delivering

oscarpiastri: you guys can't see but he's blushing so bad right now

landonorris: are you just attached to them

yourusername: yes he is, a babygirl in training

user25: how do i get adopted by y/n and max?

maxverstappen1: no but for real i love you, even if we are lumbered with your brother

yourusername: i love you too xxx

charles_leclerc: *brothers

maxverstappen1: nope arthur and lorenzo are sound

charles_leclerc: fUCK OFF :(((((((

FIN.

note: heyyyyyy you guysssss! we all know i have a soft spot for these two (plus oscar and alex) so i wanted to put out a little thing to celebrate 5k! thank you so much for following and reading my work, hope you enjoyed xx

[hamilando]

ੈ✩ My personal volkov (smau) ੈ✩

pairing : max verstappen x fem reader

summary : max verstappen got married, and his fiancé cannot stop sharing their twisted love

tw : suggestive, fluff

a/n : thank you so much to @amberjazmyn for suggesting this ! lysm 🫶🏻 also, if not obvious, the fic contains references of twisted love by Ana Huang 🫶🏻

·:｡･ﾟﾟ･ ✩ ･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ��� ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･ ✩ ･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･ ✩ ･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ

liked by user1, user2, maxverstappen1, yncooper and 2,482,492 others

landonorris helping him take over the husband duties

view comments

fransisca.gnomes good job with the ring max 🌟💪🏻

maxverstappen1 your approval was only needed 🙄

maxverstappen1 aslo norris, I WAS SUPPOSED TO POST THE PICTURES, I was supposed to announce MY ENGAGEMENT

landonorris best friends right ? maxverstappen1 meet me in Abu Dhabi

user1 AHAHAHAHA

user2 MOM AND DAD ARE MARRIED

user3 MR AND MRS VERSTAPPEN !?

user4 I want to taste both max and the pasta he made -

charlesleclerc Y/N, you sure you want to deal with his anger issues for life !?

maxverstappen1 WHAT ANGER ISSUES!?

yncooper exactly the way you are screaming over text in CAPS

yncooper and yes Charles, those anger issues lead tobest fucking of my life

maxverstappen1 Y/N!? HELLO!?

charlesleclerc I regret saying anything

lewishamilton then please calm him before every race, this lad is climbing over my car every time 🫷🏻

georgerussell you are using an emoji !?

lewishamilton so what ? 🤺

georgerussell you need to learn the correct usage of them

user5 they forgot we can see this-

user6 the freakiness on public account !?

user7 I don’t even want to imagine the private -

user8 no worries, some nudes might be there 🍑

user9 BUNDA

user10 🗿💀

liked by maxverstappen1, landonorris, user1, user2, and 283,391 others

yncooper engaged men do it faster 😮‍💨🌟

view comments

user1 yn never beating the freaky allegations

user2 I won’t be surprised if max whips out handcuffs

user3 they definitely spend millions on bdsm

user4 the dress has easier access-

user5 WHY ARE THE FANS MATCHING THE FREAKINESS !?

maxverstappen1 my skills were top notch since d1

yncooper true, best first date ever 🫶🏻

user6 YALL TELLING ME THEY GOT FREAKY ON FIRST DATE !?

user7 I won’t be surprised if they were just dating for 2 months

user6 surprisingly , they waited for two years 💀

user8 PROJECT VERSTAPPEN IS GOING TO HAVE SOME FINE LOOKS?

user9 blonde, blue eyes, rich parents, yup I would get my kid to befriend their kid

user10 their kid or befriend the kid’s parents 🗿

user11 MAX WINNING THE 100 WDC

user12 that’s biologically impossible 🦅

charlesleclerc do you both bother reading what your fans write ?

yncooper yes, sadly me and max don’t have twisted love

user13 DID SHE QOUTE TWISTED LOVE !?

user14 max and Alex volkov….

user15 THATS A SMASH

user16 I get a TMI every time she posts ✋🏻

liked by maxverstappen, mclaren and 1,485,398 others

redbullracing the three aspects of happy married life “ Stress, tears and beer” 🍻

view comments

user1 my wife said they quoted perfectly 🗿

user2 admin has marriage trauma

user3 admin got too real 💀

user4 max is going after the admin with a knife for posting that pic

user5 them crying on the altar 😭

user6 they are so cute 😭🥹

maxverstappen1 the middle and last picture is perfect ❤️

redbullracing the best for the best 🌟

ynverstappen my heart 🥹 thank you for capturing the sweet and teary moments ❤️

redbullracing welcome to red fam ❤️

user7 y/n chugging down beer is somehow the most y/n thing she could do

user8 max watching y/n chug down 10 glasses of beer be like-

landonorris @ mclaren will I also get such appreciation post on my wedding ?

mclaren a wedding needs two humans Lando

landonorris I have Oscar 🧡

mclaren kindly do not engage in spoiling Oscily 🧡

user9 WE SUPPORT OSCAR AND LILY

user10 admin shutting down lando for Oscar and lily 😭

liked by maxverstappen, landonorris and 2,497,499 others

ynverstappen the eyes never lie, my Alex Volkov 💋

view comments

carlossainz55 you both deserve the world ❤️

liked by ynverstappen

lewishamilton if you ever have marriage troubles, just call me up

maxverstappen1 says the unmarried virgin man

ynverstappen the person staying virgin for the next few month would you max and THANK YOU LEWIS FOR THE LOVELY GIFT 🫶🏻

lewishamilton your welcome yn ❤️

charlesleclerc what did he give …..

ynverstappen Cheval Blanc 1947

charlesleclerc Lewis, I am your teammate, I deserve that too 🫶🏻

landonorris you managed to click a photo max without his racing suit …

ynverstappen I have a whole album ..?

landonorris send me few

ynverstappen nude, semi-nude, shirtless or with clothes ?

comments on this post have been restricted

[fangirl-dot-com]

🕸 With Great Power Comes Great Responsibility

Driver: Oscar Piastri Genre: SMAU/Fluff Occupation: Actor

☆ TAG LIST IS CLOSED ☆

oscarpiastri2013 has posted

liked by marvel, spider_osc, flickthewrist, lewishamilton, and 930,385 others

oscarpiastri2013 just hanging around set 🤟😁

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user1 oh my gosh he's such a loser....perfect for peter parker

user13 UHHGGG I WANT TO SEE THE SUIT - ALL WE'VE SEEN IS THE OLD ONE FROM CIVIL WAR 👹

flickthewrist still waiting for him to meet y/n l/n 🥱

user40 who's y/n and why is she important?

flickthewrist she's a formula 1 rookie driving for mclaren (which happens to be Oscar's favorite team) 🤭

user40 hmmmm might have to look into it!

robertdowneyjr you're crushing it kid! 💪

oscarpiastri2013 learned from the best 🥳

user2 YOUR HONOR I LOVE HIM ALREADY

lewishamilton my nephews are already waiting to see the movie

user77 WHAT THE HELL IS A POLAR BEAR DOING IN ARLINGTON TEXAS????

landonorris oohhhh ok I see the appeal y/n81

y/n81 YOU DIDN'T HAVE TO TAG ME WHAT THE HECK DUDE I HATE YOU

maxverstappen1 we were tired of hearing about him from you

y/n81 WHY ARE YOU ALSO HERE??? GO AWAY??? I KNOW WHERE YOU HIDE YOU SNACKS 😀

user33 my worlds are colliding and I'm not ready for it 🧍‍♀️

y/n81 has posted

liked by charles_leclerc, mishi81, mclarenf1, robertdowneyjr, and 1,209,856 others

y/n81 YES TEAM, P-WAAANNN BABY - THIS IS EVERYTHING I'VE BEEN DREAMING OF AND YOU'VE MADE IT POSSIBLE! I'M NOW ADDICTED TO THE TOP STEP 🧡

SUCK IT LANDO 🫵😌

see all comments

user3 I'm definitely NAWT crying like I actually know her in person but I'm so proud!

user91 PAPAYA 1-2 FINISH OH I USED TO PRAY FOR TIMES LIKE THIS!! 🙏

landonorris ...suck it....lando?? 👁👄👁

y/n81 YES SUCK IT

landonorris charles_leclerc pls come get your gremlin - I don't want her as a teammate anymore 🧍‍♀️

charles_leclerc I fear she became your problem back in march, I'm keeping my peace

landonorris is that code word for sucking max's d-

y/n81 HEY NOW LET'S NOT IN MY WINNING POST

charles_leclerc norris you better watch your back next race 😀

landonorris I feel threatened and I don't like it

user45 so underserved - if you can't win without your teammate being told to swap positions then you don't deserve it

user82 kindly shut up 😚

oscarpiastri2013 👏 amazing race!

y/n81 THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU (I'm totally normal about this)

maxverstappen1 did she just scream from her motor home??

landonorris yep. get the ear plugs ready.

user57 this is just the beginning of l/n domination - it could bore the fans

oscarpiastri2013 has posted

liked by y/n81, dior, mclaren, maxverstappen1, and 2,049,285 others

oscarpiastri2013 I am so very thankful to have been invited to the McLaren garage to witness another spectacular win from Y/n!

(also thank you to the nice worker who lent me a team polo after spilling coffee down my shirt 😁)

see all comments

user47 SOMEONE PINCH ME I'M DREAMING

user91 is the movie done filming?? he seems like he's had a lot of time on his hands??

flickthewrist filming ends in a couple of months and then there will be the premier!

user91 thank you!

y/n81 I'm beginning to think you might be lucky

landonorris you seem quite tame?

maxverstappen1 oh she's not. she's about to hyperventilate and Charles is freaking out

charles_leclerc SOMEONE TELL HER TO BREATHE?? HER FACE IS THE SAME COLOR AS THE SPIDER-MAN SUIT!!!!!

oscarpiastri2013 I will have to 🕸stick🕸 around then!

y/n81 AHAHAHAHA STICK THAT'S SO FUNNY YOU'RE SO COOL

charles_leclerc yeah she just fell out of her chair 🧍‍♀️

chrisevans kid you need to get back to set

robertdowneyjr evans here decided to set fire to the microwave

oscarpiastri2013 fine 🙄

user22 is anyone else ever confused as to WHAT THE HECK IS GOING ON IN THE COMMENTS??

lewishamilton I've just decided to roll with it ☕️

user72 finally, a race that showed off y/n's talents! no team orders this time!!

maxverstappen1 has posted

liked by redbullracing, y/nl/n_updates, landoscaring, and 1,204,402 others

maxverstappen1 didn't know air-max was part-time baby sitting that includes nap time

see all comments

user38 this is actually hilarious

user4 this just shows that lando can indeed fall asleep anywhere :D

user88 ARE WE JUST GOING TO IGNORE THAT Y/N IS LITERALLY SLEEPING ON SOMEONE??

charles_leclerc they're going to be so pissed when they wake up

maxverstappen1 they sleep on my plane, I get black mail 😈

danielricciardo I fear for my life

maxverstappen1 you should ☺️

robertdowneyjr pls bring the kid back in one piece?? Jon will kill me if he's not

maxverstappen1 👍

user79 DOES THIS MEAN OSCAR IS ON AIRMAX?? IS HE SLEEPING?? IS HE THE ONE BENEATH Y/N?? ANSWERS PEOPLE I NEED ANSWERS

mclaren just a pair of sleepy teammates 🧡

maxverstappen1 the bill is $1,203,206 for daycare

mclaren I'm just the admin 🧍‍♀️

user37 ok but Oscar and y/n together would be so cute!!

f1wags has posted

liked by y/nl/n_updates, pia81, maxverstappen1, and 4,209 others

f1wags so after some recent (very recent) activity between y/n and Oscar, I felt like he needed a little introduction IF he's going to be the newest wag to the paddock!

oscar jack piastri is an australian actor now most known for his role as Peter Parker in the MCU. he made his debut two years ago in Captain America Civil War and now fans are debating if he's the best spiderman yet! the perfect mix of boy-next-door Peter with a sarcastic side behind the iconic mask! Spiderman Homecoming is set to release in theaters January 5, 2025 (two years after the announcement of the movie).

His other roles include The Impossible, In the Heart of the Sea, and The Lost City of Z.

His interests outside of Formula 1 include cricket and chess.

Although there hasn't been an official announcement from either Y/n or Oscar, their friendship so far has been fun to see. Oscar would be Y/n's first boyfriend (as she has previously stated that she has had no time to date due to trying to work toward a full-time Formula 1 seat).

see all comments

f1gossipgirl I am INVETSTED IN THEIR RELATIONSHIP

user2 what is max doing in the likes???

maxverstappen1 shhhhh I'm on a secret mission 🕵️

charles_leclerc it's not a very good secret mission SINCE YOU COMMENTED ABOUT IT

landonorris someone free me from these two I BEG

user84 y/n has also been a fan of Oscar's since The Impossible :)

user8 awwww first boyfriend 🥹 Oscar better not hurt her in anyway or there will be blood

oscarpiastri2013 .....dully noted 🧍‍♀️

user92 I need y/n to be invited to the premier!!!

y/n81 has posted

liked by dior, marvel, mclaren, pia81, and 3,048,957 others

y/n81 my spider-boy 🕷❤️

see all comments

user30 I KNEW IT I KNEW IT I KNEW IT AHAHAHAHA

user92 I'm glad they just decided to hard-launch after max soft-launched for them

charles_leclerc YES FERRARI RED 👏 SO PROUD

landonorris this is betrayal at it's finest - you WILL be hearing from my lawyers

y/n81 I'm surprised you know what that word is

landonorris ya know what? I'm glad that osco has taken you off my hands

user94 LANDO ALREADY HAS A NICKNAME FOR OSCAR I'M DYING

user84 y/n is SLAYING IN THE SPIDER-MAN RED

charles_leclerc *ferrari red 😌

oscarpiastri2013 my spider-girl 🥺

y/n81 I'm glad you didn't pass out while we tried to do the kiss

oscarpiastri2013 it's not like I hang upside down for a living or anything :)

maxverstappen1 you're welcome for that picture by the way. I still want compensation 🙄

oscarpiastri2013 you can be in the next film?

maxverstappen1 done.

charles_leclerc I WANNA BE IN THE NEXT FILM?? LOOK AT THIS FACE - IT DESERVES TO BE ON THE BIG SCREEN - MAX TELL THEM

landonorris please, for everything that is good and holy on this planet, GO AWAY

user33 I'm still confused as to what is GOING ON

lewishamilton just sit back and sip

user81 THEY DID THE KISS

TAG LIST: @scuderiadevils @marauderssworld @mehrmonga @glitterquadricorn @sinofwriting @splaterparty0-0 @ayohockeycheck @evalynkillgrave @bookishnerd1132 @vellicora @misty-inferno @minkyungseokie @khaylin27 @how-what-why-huh @theblueblub @zacian117 @fly-me-away @blueblinkx-blog @ilove-tswizzle @sinnerpalace @thatgirlmj @spilled-coffee-cup @iangelofmusic @suns3treading @roszszs @2pagenumb @ietss @morgan-getty @younxii @phantomxoxo @pastryboyyy @lolzzzzzzzzz @halleest @ggaslyp1 @skepvids @mil0sworld @u5dthsduttd @silkenthusiasts @coldcola @annispamz @fionaschicken @littlegrapejuice @boiohboii @crashingwavesofeuphoria @lancestrollsgf @tribbisweetdear @graciewrote @lozzamez3 @residentdegenerate @e-nonsense

[no-144444]

mistake- l.hamilton

summary: lewis fucks up

pairing: dad! lewis hamilton x fem! mom! wife! reader

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“I’m home!” Lewis called into the house as he shut the door behind him. The patter of small feet down the stairs made his heart beat a little bit faster as the smile on his face widened. It had been a pretty shitty weekend, just hoping to stay in the points wasn’t what a 7 time World Champion should’ve been doing. He should be at the front, where Charles was. So he made his decision. 

“Hey baby,” you smiled, watching as your toddlers hugged his legs, both begging for ‘uppies’ as he greeted them animatedly. Archie and Milo, your 5 year old twin boys, Anna, your 4 year old, and Harry, your 3 year old, all grabbing for him as Riley, your 2 year old, was half-asleep in your arms. 

He smiled as he saw you, and leant down to the kids, greeting all of them with a hug and a kiss, then standing up and pressing a soft kiss to your cheek. “Hey baby.”

He pressed a soft kiss to Riley’s head, gently stirring her out of her sort-of sleep. 

The 7 of you enjoyed dinner, Lewis put the kids to bed while you showered, and met you in your bedroom after what felt like the longest day ever. 

He wrapped his arms around you from behind as you brushed your teeth in the mirror. You smiled. 

“You alright baby?” you asked, finishing up. 

He sighed. It was as good a time as ever, he guessed. “It’s been a shitty season,” he lay on the bed, holding you close to him. “I got an offer.”

You blinked. “From who?”

“RedBull,” he admitted. 

“Wow,” you nodded, clearly a little shocked. “RedBull.”

“I might take it,” he admitted. Your jaw dropped. “I want the 8th. I want it so badly Y/n-”

“What about your promise?” you questioned. “You’re nearly 42 Lewis, and you have 5 fucking children and a wife at home who wait for you every single weekend. I know you want all the glory of being the greatest of all time, but will that really be enough for you?” You were exhausted by his ambition. “You’re already the greatest of all time Lewis, one more championship isn’t going to change that.”

“I know I can do it though,” he pressed a soft kiss to your temple. 

“But can RedBull?” you scoffed. “They’ve been fucking Lawson over for a whole year now. What makes you think you’ll be any different?”

He sighed. “Baby, I can’t stay with Ferrari for 10 years when we’re not winning races.”

“They are. Charles is. You’re not,” you scoffed, knowing how mean your words were. “I can’t keep fucking doing this. I can’t just be this perfect housewife. I need more than that. I had a fucking career before this, and you promised me it wouldn’t be put in on the backburner, yet it has been since Milo and Archie were born. You swore to me that you’d be finished when you were 40. You’re almost 42. I’ll never regret having our children, I adore them, but I do regret ever believing you when you said you’d support me.”

Your words cut him like a knife. He felt like shit. He’d done it again, fucking everything up with you. 

“Baby, I’m sor-”

“Don’t say things you don’t mean Lewis,” you scoffed. He opened his mouth to say something, but as if it were planned perfectly, Riley started crying, and you got up to tend to her. He sat back against the bedframe and sighed. 

What was he going to do?

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navigation for my blog :) (masterlist)

[screampied]

gojo planned to confess his love to you on valentine’s day.

he had the entire thing set, he was anxious, pondering just what your reaction might be. you were forever on his mind — even now, he was picturing your smile, imagining you returning the words and accepting your gifts. his heart swooned at the thought, the feeling of you finally returning your feelings to him. he’s had a deep love for you as long as he could remember.

“she’s gonna say it back, she’s gonna say it back.”

he repeated those words in his head like a mantra.

just the thought of your name made gojo’s heart race at such a speed. he was in love with you. he figured today would be the perfect time to tell you, smother you with compliments, decorate pretty roses in your hair and maybe snag a polaroid picture with you to keep in the back case of his phone.

although, once he finally meets up with you, he’d never know how foolish he really could have been.

you’d be somewhere outside by yourself, perhaps sitting on the grass and soaking in the humid sun with the most gorgeous relaxed expression. he texted you prior that he wanted to tell you something, very subtlety.

he felt his heart beat pick up at the sheer sight of you—you were so effortlessly pretty. trapped in your own little world. gojo trods his feet up to you, hiding his hands behind his back with a gift he had prepared for you. it was a necklace with a bunch of your favorite candies inside. he also had a cheesy card that read, “do you have a name? or should i just call you mine.”

it made him snort, he found the idea off of google.

as he kept making his way towards you, dragging his feat, he’s repeating his sappy speech a million times in his head. he straightened his tie, reaching for his pocket to grab a rose out of his pocket before he stopped once he saw geto approach you …

with a kiss.

gojo had a slow reaction, he felt like his breath got snatched from his chest. a tough snatch to where he could barely breathe. geto stroked a thumb against your chin before after a few brief seconds, he pulls away. you smiled at him before geto surprised you with a big box of what appeared to be a gift.

“oh..” gojo mutters, feeling trapped, as if his feet was stuck in place. you looked so happy, he started to feel stupid. he’s so ensnared into his own loud screaming thoughts that he doesn’t even realize that you’re standing in front of him now.

“satoru. hey. you wanted to talk to me about something?” you utter, glancing up at him, wondering why his body language was so awkward and stiff.

his jaw tightened before he blinks twice, sighing out a soft. “huh? oh that—oh, it’s uh, nothing,” and then he forces a fake smile on his face. he was too late to win your heart, and it costed his own to be shattered into a million glass pieces.

“are you sure?” you pry.

he gives you a nod, and you literally slip from his fingers the minute you turn your heels to walk away. gojo felt numb, tears started to swell into his eyes as he brought the gift up to his chest.

a single tear runs down his cheek as he watches you walk off into the sunset with geto, cursing to himself mentally that that should have been him. he had a force smile, because in the end — at least you were happy.

“happy valentine’s day,” he sniffles, knowing the true meaning of heartbreak at that particular moment. “i still love you.”

[mv1simp]

max taking advantage of innocent!best friend!reader … like a dynamic where he spoils her a lot and has made him look her think that all his strange behaviors/touches are normal

I’VE BEEN OBSESSED WITH THIS IDEA FOR AGES THANK U FOR GIVING ME AN EXCUSE TO WRITE IT 🙏🙏🙏

Friends ♥️

Max Verstappen x Childhood Best Friend!Reader

And what the hell were we, tell me we weren’t just friends, this doesn’t make much sense, no

Max has been your closest friend since childhood, promising to always look after you. Sure, everyone gossips that you two are secretly dating, that it’s not normal for friends to be so close, so touchy - but Max blows it all off. So when you ask him for help when you want to get a boyfriend for the first time, it shouldn’t be a problem because Max doesn’t like you like that…right?

Content includes: 18+ MDNI, smut, innocent virgin! Reader, manipulative dark best friend! Max, dubcon, size kink, dom/sub, somnophilia, recording, this is DARK 🥸 3.3k WC

You and Max had grown up close together, your families being good friends as your fathers had raced together back in the day. He had been shy and awkward when you met, age 5 and 6, but as soon as he had stepped in front of you in defence when you had been bullied in school the next day, you vowed to always be loyal to him. Your families approved the friendship, laughing and taking pictures when you two would play house - Max always being the husband doll to your wife doll, of course. You two did everything together - school, holidays, racing where you always came to support him bearing snacks and words of encouragement. So when he asked you at age 18 to move with him to Monaco you didn’t even hesitate to say yes - not imagining a life without your Maxie by your side.

Your move raised a few eyebrows from your family, who had been suprised that you hadn’t outgrown what they had thought was an innocent childhood crush. Your older sister had been especially worried at the thought of you alone in a new city with only Max there to support you. She noticed, sometimes, when he thought no one was watching - how his eyes would be watching you, in a way eerily similar to how a wolf watched a lamb he was about to devour whole. Althought it had taken a lot of pleading from your end to win her over, it had been easy enough to convince your parents to let you go, explaining you were enrolling in Monaco University - being bankrolled by Max’s new generous F1 salary - and yes, promised that you were staying in your own separate apartment. And that had been the plan, but when you stood in the entrance to Max’s penthouse a few weeks later, dripping head to toe with sprinkler water because somehow your up to code apartment had a fire when you had been out, he had insisted you stay at his until you found a new place - just for a short while. A short while then turned into a long while which then turned into the lockdown and at the end of it all Max had said you just couldn’t leave, he was too used to having you there that coming home to an empty apartment would be too hard. And although you had worried, saying that as you both got older it might be strange that you now lived together and people would talk, Max shot down all your concerns, reassuring you with a warm hug and sweet kiss to your forehead that the only opinion that mattered was yours, and as long as you’re happy Schat, I don’t really care what anyone else thinks. You had blushed from the affection and that was the end of that discussion.

You’d always been quite sheltered, naive even - and going to a strict private school meant you hadn’t had any romantic or sexual experience whatsoever. Growing up, it was clear to the adults around you that you had always held a crush on Max, and althought the older boy would always look out for you, he didn’t reciprocate to the same way - at least that’s what they thought. They hadn’t noticed that when you two had been gently separated one night when it had been deemed you were too old to sleep in the same bed anymore, Max had crept back and grabbed your hand as he lay next to you, mumbling he couldn’t sleep without you, liefje. No one noticed that this habit continued well into your teens, when Max would climb in through your bedroom window - initially making you freak out but soon reassured by Max’s words that your parents were just too strict, you were just two best friends wanting to spend time together.

And the first time you woke up one morning to feel something thick and hard pressing into you from the back, scaring you a bit, Max had gently rubbed your shoulder from the back while telling you it was okay, it’s just something that happens sometimes when a guy sleeps next to a pretty girl, you had blushed and accepted the compliment. And no one knew that behind closed doors your chaste goodbye kisses to Max’s cheek began turning into loving kisses on the lips when he had tilted your head up, saying he was going to miss you so much when he went on his first F1 race and he deserves a goodbye kiss for good luck from you, didn’t he?

And of course you would always give Max whatever he asked for since he was your best friend, your protector, the person you loved the most in the world. He’d pay for you, drive you everywhere, cheer you up when you were down, make you laugh, patiently take you shopping and rate every outfit you tried on, fight anyone who dared to give you a hard time - and the rest of the paddock had definitely noticed the lingering attentions of the Redbull driver to his childhood friend. Daniel and Lando constantly gave him shit for it, saying he needed to grow a pair and just confess instead of making puppy eyes at his “best friend”. Max always just rolled his eyes at their gossiping ways.

But it was hard to deny their claims when Max would pull you in to sit on his lap at a games night making everyone smirk at you, or when you would emerge from his hotel room the next morning since you two still shared a bed everytime you went away - it’s just like a sleepover when we were little, scatje, nothing wrong with it - or when at fancy award ceremonies or galas Max would be photographed in his tux, a vogue model at his side as his latest girlfriend - and you on his other side, wearing a luxury dress he’d brought for you. The paparazzi would eat up the dirty looks Max’s flings would always be shooting you, knowing they always came second to his best friend.

The thing was, even when sometimes doubt would flicker in your mind that things were too intimate, too romantic, between you and Maxie - you couldn’t bring yourself to want to draw back. You’d always secretly had such a crush on the older boy growing up, but since he had never directly reciprocated and was now a big world champion with women around every corner in Monaco after him, you’d learnt to accept your feelings were unrequited and you needed to stop reading so much into Max’s pure intentions to look after you. After all, that’s what best friends did, right?

And oh, did Max look after you. It seemed every week he’d level up more and more. Matching jewellery and heels to go with the designer dresses, and lately you had come home to find matching lingerie in Max’s favourite colour, dark blue. You had blushed furiously, feeling an indescribable icky pit in your stomach and remembering your sister’s warnings - Max goes too far, he pushes the boundaries of a normal friendship - but Max put all your worries to ease over the homecooked dinner you made him that night, explaining that the latest dress just happened to come with matching accessories and he wanted to make sure that you felt beautiful in all the layers you wore and it was normal to give your best friends gift, no? But he could return it if you’d prefer… prompting you to hastily accept his intimate gift, reassuring him that it was so thoughtful and you were so grateful. He’d looked so pleased with your response that when he ordered more and more sets, each one getting just a touch more lacier and risqué, you just thanked him for each one. And when he asked you how you found your gift, could he have a look at it, please schatje, I always help you pick your prettiest outfits right? You had nodded in agreement, blushing but shyly pulling his hoodie off your torso to expose the outrageously expensive La Perla black lace set you wore, accentuating your plump ass and pushing your tits up for him to hungrily look at. Max’s gaze had lingered there for a long time, his gaze turning dark and you had felt that same uncomfortable pit begin to settle in your stomach again when he saw the look on your face and patted your soft, chubby waist in reassurance, saying don’t be embarrased, schat, we always grew up seeing each other like this, right? Remember that photo of us swimming in that pool in Ibiza? Completely naked? Besides, you’ve seen me shirtless so many times, this is the same as that. That was true, you accepted dreamily, and not thinking anything of it when Max started asking you to send photos of you modelling the cute sets he’d get delivered to you when he was away. You happily snapped away mirror selfies, in all the different angles he wanted to see you from, even strange ones you weren’t quite sure about like bend over and stick your hips right up in the air, hmm schat?

He’d kiss you goodbye now all the time, saying you were his cute little good luck charm, with the expectation that you’d open your lips wide for him, letting him shove his tongue into your mouth and explore it to his hearts content. Gotta have a better kiss to get better luck. It felt so nice and made you feel all tingly between your legs so you would never turn it down. And since Max was away more and more with his racing schedule, often he would come home and fall asleep straight in your bed, saying he had missed being away from you so much. You had thought it was so sweet, no one else but you got to see Maxie like that, you were the only one he depended on. So you easily wrapped yourself up in his embrace, just like when you two had been little - except this time Max would say you’re so tense, schat, let me help you relax a bit, my physio knows this great muscle relaxation technique-

And it felt soo nice when he rubbed your sensitive little body up and down, you had no complaints, not even when some nights he would travel much, much lower down your plush little tummy than he had before. You just obediently parted your legs for him when he commanded in his deep voice, running his thick finger up your slit through your wet lace panties. And sometimes you’d wake up to feel that very familiar hardness of his behind you, soo warm now as he took himself out of his sweatpants and let his cock rest against you. Feels all tense, sweetheart, cause you kept rubbing against it last night and I didn’t get any sleep he would sigh.

You’d feel terrible, apologising profusely for interrupting his precious sleep when he trained so much, asking how you could make it up to him when Max had said just gonna let it relax out onto you, yeah? Don’t worry, you can even go back to bed, baby. You’d nodded sleepily, so grateful that Maxie was so sweet he always put your sleep first, even when his had been deprived.

He’d waited before you were comfortably nuzzled back against him, breaths turning deeper as sleep overtook you before slowly lifting your damp panties out of the way, and sliding his leaking tip just along the entrance to your innocent hole, making you moan, half asleep cause it felt soo good, and you felt so guilty that you felt so much pleasure while Max had just become frustrated overnight. With your eyes screwed shut you’d never notice the dark lustful look in his eyes, the evil smirk on his face as he had his way with you, letting him getting away with practically murder if it was for the sake of your friendship. You let him continue gliding his cock along your puffy folds, his tip repeatedly stimulating your sensitive clit, his large hands coming up to fondle at your boobs that has somehow slipped out of your camisole and gently flick your nipples before he tensed, holding you tightly against him as his breaths quickened. You has felt something warm and wet leaking out from the sides of your panties. You looked down, dazed, but Max shushed you back asleep, lulling you into his arms again. And when you woke up next you always had a clean pair of fresh panties on, camisole tucked back down over your thick hips, Max no where in sight.

As you grew up, your sexual curiosity eventually began to peak. When all of your friends in uni had gotten boyfriends and giggled to you about how good sex felt, you had gotten curious too. of course, you would never bring it up with Max even though you two talked about everything - because you should only be talking about sex with your future boyfriend, right? But one day when you had come home early from class you had heard lewd noises coming from Max’s bedroom. So lewd that you had been unable to stop yourself from peeking through a slight gap. The sight of Max thrusting himself into his latest girlfriend, her face pushed down into the mattress as he drilled into her from the back made you blush furiously. You’d stood there for a little while, your panties getting damp at the sight of sweat dripping down Max’s abs before you had caught yourself and scurried away, so guilty about violating Max’s privacy like that. You were such a creep, what was wrong with you?!

But that afternoon had also made you realize Maxie had so much more experience than you as you hadn’t been sure what a lot of the movement and positions you had seen that day were. And Max had said you could always ask him for help with anything, right? You couldn’t quite build up the courage to ask him - until your classmate asked you out one day, making you giddy with excitement but come crushing down when he had later found out on the date that you were a virgin, and had said maybe it was best for you to be with someone who was more on your level, that he didn’t feel comfortable being with someone so inexperienced for a casual fling. You’d come home sobbing, running straight into Max’s arms in your cute little dress and strappy heels, crying Maxie, he was so mean, you’d never believe what he said-

Max had been furious when you told him the story. He was so, so angry - not only at your classmate, but at you, for going on this date and not telling him, the way you would always tell Max about everything you did in your day. How could you be so careless, so slutty to go out with a guy like that? Max demanded, making your eyes widen and cry harder. It’s those new girlfriends of yours, aren’t they, they’re such fucking whores.

You’d never seen him so angry before, not even when he had a DNF at a race weekend. He’d only seems to calm down when you had looked up at him with innocent eyes, pleading Maxie, please, will you teach me how to be a good girlfriend, I don’t want to be so inexperienced anymore.

He’d sighed and run his hands through your hair, wiping away the tears that had made mascara drip down your cheeks. Of course, schat. I’ll show you exactly how to be a good little girlfriend. But promise me that you won’t talk to another guy without my permission first, okay? I have to protect you and make sure that you’re trained enough to have a boyfriend.

It was so, so sweet of Max to take time out of his busy schedule to help your embarrassing problem, you thought dreamily. You never noticed that your classmate never turned up to class again, but did have to go to hospital that week for a new black eye and bruised ribs.

Meanwhile, Max first started your “lessons” by showing you how to pump him from soft to a raging erection, guiding your hands into his sweatpants and moving your hands up and down, after you spit cutely into your palms to ease the glide. You didn’t notice the smirk on his face as he watched your struggle to jack off his entire sizeable length with your tiny palms.

Then he’d shown you how to use your mouth to make him feel good. You’d sat on your ass for hours in between his legs as he absentmindedly played his game, drawing kitten licks up his shaft before he’d taken over and told you to relax that tight throat of yours, baby, as he shoved his cock inside your mouth. He’d jackhammered away happily without any regard for the tears that emerged from your eyes. You had coughed, spluttered, throat raw for days as Max made you practise on the daily, tutting at you in mock disappointment when your gag reflux got in the way and you stopped halfway down his length. He’d pulled you up to sit on his lap, his hard cock wedged in between your plush thighs, as he put a dirty video onto the TV - petite ebony deepthroats massive white cock like a pro.

You had blushed and stuttered at the obscene video, looking away at one point but Max had forced your head back to look at the scene, saying don’t miss this bit, schat, look how she doesn’t forget about his balls, yeah?

You’d watched video after dirty video until you had perfected your blowjob technique exactly to Max’s likings. You look up obediently at him as he points his phone at you, flash on and all, recording your performance for reference, of course scatje, we need to track your progress, right? as you sloppily took his hard cock into your eager mouth, all the way to the base, gag reflux well and truly trained out of you from his daily discipline.

You’d woken up the next morning to find Max’s blonde curls between your legs, his tongue sweetly licking at your most innocent parts and you had squealed in shock, Maxie what are you doing ohmygod- but he quickly thrust his fingers into your drooling mouth to shut you up, just progressing to the next level, sweetheart, you need to learn to cum whenever I ask you too.

You’d squeaked and whined as his tongue didn’t stop flicking your clit, his fingers now joining in abusing your poor little virgin cunny until you begged him to pull away, Maxie please I feel funny, I think I’m going to pee- Ahhh!!! You’d ended up squirting all over his fingers and tongue, immediately passing out from exhaustion at the sheer intensity and missing the dark, pleased grin on Max’s face as he licked up your juices from his fingers. God, it was almost too easy to brainwash you into his perfect little pet. Soon he’d having you asking him to claim your virginity, he just knew it. And he would not hesitate, taking what had always belonged him anyways. He’d have made you his housewife a long time ago if your goddamn sister hadn’t kept cockblocking him.

Never mind that. Even she wouldn’t be able to withhold her blessing when you’d turn up at the next family gathering, glowing and expecting his child, he thought darkly. Smirking to himself, Max unbuttoned his pants, freeing his hard cock. In fact, why wait to feed you some bullshit excuse about how no baby, virgins can’t get pregnant the first time or no, I can’t use a condom, schat, it’s bad for you to have something unnatural inside you.

He might as well start now and give you a thick creampie as your present to wake up to later ♥️ After all, you’d take it like the good girl you always were for him.

—————————————————————————

A/N: Chile anywaysssss don’t mind me and my depraved thoughts. Gotta go drink some holy water fr. Lmk what you guys thought! Feel free to request more x

[pucksandpower]

He Wins in Monza

Charles Leclerc x Norris!Reader

Summary: in which Charles wins his second home race, kisses you in front of thousands of people against his better judgement, and pisses off your brother (again) in that order

The roar of the crowd in Monza is a force of nature, a living thing that pulses with every heartbeat of the race. Charles can still feel it vibrating through his chest, even though the race is over and the engine’s been cut.

He won.

He won in Monza.

Despite starting fourth, despite all the odds — he’s done it.

He throws himself at his team, elation pouring out in yells and whoops as they crowd around him, slapping his helmet, hugging him like they never want to let go.

He doesn’t want to let go either.

This is what they’ve all worked so hard for, what they’ve poured countless hours and sleepless nights into, and here it is — the reward. The trophy is almost within his grasp, and for a moment, it’s all he can think about.

Until he sees you.

You’re standing just outside the McLaren huddle, clapping along as Lando reluctantly acknowledges the crowd from his P3 position. Charles sees it, the way your eyes shine as you watch your brother, but there’s something else there too — something that makes his chest tighten in a way that has nothing to do with the win.

You’re proud of Lando, sure, but when your gaze shifts and locks with his, it’s like the world stops spinning.

His breath catches. It’s the same look you gave him last night, when you whispered “good luck” in the dark, your fingers tracing the curve of his jaw like you were trying to memorize him. The same look you gave him when you first admitted that maybe, just maybe, you were falling for him. The same look you gave him every time he stole a glance at you during those secret moments, hidden away from the world.

It’s too much, too fast. He should be thinking about the podium, about the ceremony, about not giving anything away, but the way you’re looking at him — he forgets all of it.

Before he knows what he’s doing, Charles is pushing past his team, the thrill of victory still pumping through his veins. The only thing he can think about is getting to you, of pulling you into his arms and kissing you senseless in front of everyone because what does it matter anymore?

He won. You’re here. Everything else is just noise.

“Charles!” One of the engineers calls after him, but his voice is drowned out by the crowd. Charles is barely aware of the weight of his helmet in his hand, of the sweat still cooling on his skin. He’s aware of you, only you, and the way your eyes widen just a fraction as you realize what he’s about to do.

“Charles, don’t-” you start, your voice barely audible over the chaos, but it’s too late. He’s already there, his free hand finding yours like it was made to fit, and he’s tugging you forward, into him.

The world tilts, and suddenly, you’re chest-to-chest, his breath mingling with yours as he leans in. There’s a moment, just a split second, where everything hangs in the balance, where he could still pull back and save you both from the fallout.

But then your fingers tighten around his, and he’s gone, lost in the warmth of your mouth, in the softness of your lips that taste like everything he’s ever wanted.

The kiss is electric, a jolt of pure, unfiltered joy that sparks from his lips and spreads through his entire body. It’s the kind of kiss that makes time stop, that makes everything else fade into the background. The cheers, the cameras, the thousands of eyes on you — none of it matters. All that matters is the way you’re kissing him back, your hands slipping up to cup his face, holding him close like you’re afraid he might disappear.

When he finally pulls back, it’s only because he has to breathe, his forehead resting against yours as he tries to catch his breath. “I couldn’t wait,” he whispers, his voice rough with emotion. “I had to … I had to …”

You’re looking up at him with a mixture of disbelief and something else — something softer, warmer. “You’re an idiot,” you breathe, but there’s no heat in it, just affection, deep and unshakeable. “We’re supposed to be keeping this a secret, remember?”

“Can’t,” he says, shaking his head slightly, his nose brushing against yours. “Not when you’re looking at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like I’m the only one in the world.”

You huff a laugh, but it’s shaky, like you’re holding something back. “Charles, you just won in Monza. You are the only one in the world right now.”

“No,” he says, his voice soft but certain. “No, that’s not it. That’s not it at all.”

Your eyes search his, and he knows you’re trying to figure out what he means, trying to understand why he threw caution to the wind. He doesn’t know how to explain it, doesn’t know how to put into words the way you make him feel. How you make everything else fade away, how you’re the only thing that matters in a world that’s constantly spinning out of control.

“Charles,” you start, but the sound of Lando’s voice cuts through the moment, sharp and incredulous.

“What the hell is this?”

Charles stiffens, his hand still wrapped around yours, and he turns to find Lando staring at the two of you like he’s just been slapped. There’s a mix of confusion and anger on his face, his eyes darting between you and Charles as he tries to make sense of what he’s seeing.

“Lando, I-” you begin, but Lando’s not having it.

“How long?” He demands, his voice tight with the effort of keeping it together. “How long has this been going on?”

Charles opens his mouth to answer, but you beat him to it, your voice steady even as your hand trembles slightly in his grip. “A few months,” you admit, and Charles can feel the weight of those words, the way they hang in the air between the three of you.

“A few months?” Lando repeats, incredulous. “And you didn’t think to tell me? Either of you?”

“Lando, I wanted to, I swear, but-”

“But what? You thought it’d be fun to keep me in the dark?” Lando’s voice rises, and Charles can see the hurt behind the anger, the betrayal that’s twisting his features. “You’re my sister. And you-” He turns on Charles, his eyes blazing. “You’re supposed to be my friend.”

“I am,” Charles says quickly, his voice earnest. “I am your friend, Lando. This … this wasn’t meant to hurt you.”

“Then what was it meant to do?” Lando shoots back, his frustration palpable. “Because right now, it feels a hell of a lot like betrayal.”

You flinch at the word, and Charles feels it like a punch to the gut. He takes a step forward, his free hand reaching out toward Lando. “Lando, listen-”

“No,” Lando snaps, stepping back out of reach. “I don’t want to hear it. I don’t want to hear any of it.” He runs a hand through his hair, his chest heaving as he tries to get a grip on his emotions. “I just … I need a minute, okay? I need to think.”

There’s a moment of silence, thick with tension, and then Lando turns on his heel and walks away, leaving you and Charles standing there, the weight of what just happened settling in.

Charles squeezes your hand, his heart pounding. “I’m sorry,” he murmurs, his voice raw. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean-”

“I know,” you interrupt, your voice soft but firm. “I know.” You turn to face him, your eyes searching his. “But we have to deal with this now. We can’t just … ignore it.”

He nods, the reality of the situation sinking in. The euphoria of the win is fading, replaced by the cold, hard truth. Lando knows. The secret’s out. And now, there’s no going back.

“What do we do?” Charles asks, his voice barely above a whisper.

You take a deep breath, your hand slipping out of his so you can cup his face, your touch grounding him in a way that nothing else can. “We talk to him,” you say, your voice steady despite everything. “We explain. And we hope he understands.”

Charles nods again, leaning into your touch, letting it soothe the anxiety that’s bubbling up inside him. “Yeah,” he says quietly. “Yeah, we’ll talk to him.”

You smile, but it’s tinged with sadness, and it breaks his heart a little. “This wasn’t how I wanted him to find out,” you admit, your thumb brushing against his cheekbone. “But we’ll get through it. We have to.”

Charles closes his eyes, letting the warmth of your touch chase away the cold fear that’s gripping him. “I love you,” he says, the words slipping out before he can stop them.

He feels you freeze for a moment, and his heart skips a beat as he realizes what he’s just said. But then your hand tightens on his face, and when he opens his eyes, you’re looking at him with a softness that makes his chest ache.

“I love you too,” you whisper, and it’s like everything else falls away, leaving just the two of you in this moment, in this space.

He leans in, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your forehead, his heart swelling with emotions he can’t quite name. When he pulls back, his eyes search yours, and he finds the strength he needs there — steady, unwavering.

“We’ll get through this,” you say again, your voice a quiet promise.

He nods, his heart settling back into a steady rhythm. “Together,” he whispers, a small, determined smile tugging at his lips.

You smile back, and in that moment, with the chaos of the world swirling around you, Charles knows one thing for certain: as long as he has you by his side, everything else will fall into place.

[imagines-for-the-fangirls-soul]

But Daddy I Love Him - Jacaerys Velaryon

A/N: Oh hi! First of all, thanks for all the love on my last Jace fic. I'm sorry it's taken so long to post my next, I've had a crazy couple of weeks, but I wanted to make to get something out before this week's episode. I can't believe there's just 3 eps left of the season! I am hoping to get my Jace chapter fic out before then, so I have put most of my focus there. Anyways, I hope you enjoy!!

TS Prompt #8: But Daddy I Love Him

Pairing: Jacaerys Velaryon x Lannister!Reader Word Count: 5.3k Synopsis: Jace and the reader fall in love, much to the displeasure of the reader's father.

Warnings: smut

Jacaerys Velaryon is beautiful.

It is tourney day in King's Landing, and your eyes are stuck to him as he makes his way out into the arena. Around you, there are scattered conversations whispered not low enough, about how the prince has matured in the last year, how handsome he has become.

He has not yet put his helmet on. This leaves his hair out, curls whipping around him in the gentle breeze. He flicks his hair back and there is a chorus of awes around you. You smirk at the reaction.

"The arrogance," your father, Jason Lannister, mutters from your side. You barely spare him a glance, not wanting to remove your eyes from Jacaerys.

"What do you mean?" you ask.

"He's showing off," your father says, disgust in his voice.

"It is a tourney," you say, "Isn't that the point?" He doesn't respond, just continues to monitor the arena space.

Jacaerys mounts his horse and with bated breath, you watch as he accepts the lance from the Master of Revels. His opponent is a knight you haven't met yet, a Ser Estermont. He has done well in the tourney so far, though, which makes you nervous.

As both men prepare to make their joust, you lean forward in your seat, needing to see as closely as possible, what is about to happen.

Unlike the matches before, this one is over in one round. Jacaerys aims his lance to the perfect angle, and expertly knocks over the knight from Greenstone.

Applause erupts from the viewing gallery, and you nearly stand up and cheer, you are so relieved about his win. Jacaerys rides around the stands and stops in front of the gallery you sit in. He lifts off his helmet and smiles in a way that makes your heart race.

"Lady Y/N," he says, and you think you hear discontented sighs from behind you. "Might I request your favor, that I may excel through the rest of this tournament?" You smile and reach for your wreath of flowers. For one moment, your father grips your wrist, as if he means to keep you from going. But it does not last long. No matter what your father may think of Jacaerys, he is still the prince, and future heir to the the throne. To deny him would mean scandal.

As you approach the railing, you try to fight off the grin at seeing him. Jacaerys extends his lance so that you may drop the wreath onto it easily.

"Thank you, My Lady," he says, eyes locked onto yours.

"Good luck, My Prince."

He rides off into the arena, garnering more applause from the stands, as you return to your seat. There are jealous eyes upon you. Even your father looks angry. But you pay them no mind. There will be more rounds, and Jacaerys is sure to succeed time and again, which will have him request the favor of more ladies.

Smiling as you sit down, you think of the girls who will bestow upon him their own wreaths. You might even feel bad for them, for surely, they will assume that his attention means he might court them. But you know that his affections lie only with you.

To you, the prince was just Jace, and you had loved him since you were a girl. Three months ago, he had declared his love for you, too, and ever since, the two of you had been hiding your love, waiting for the right moment to proclaim your intentions.

"He did quite well," you say to your father, making another effort to talk up Jacaerys to him.

"Ser Estermont was an easy opponent," your father says, disinterest and dismissal reflected in his tone.

Once the tournament is over, Jace makes his way into the castle. Several lords and ladies stop him on his way, congratulating him on his victory. He thanks them in passing, his thoughts only on getting into the castle, where he knows he will find you.

There is a feast to be held after the tournament, and while most everyone heads that way, he dismisses himself, saying he wishes to change before then.

When he turns down the hallway towards his quarters, the area is empty. The guards that usually stand at his door were at the tourney and are now sitting down for the feast.

You come around the other end of the hallway, your red dress immediately drawing his eye. You glance around cautiously before breaking into a run, launching yourself into his arms. He catches you easily, laughing as his arms settle around you.

"Oh," you say on a breath, pulling back just enough to face him, "You have no idea how worried I was for you."

"Have you so little faith?" he asks with a smile.

"I believed in you," you say, hand to his chest, "But belief doesn't change the fear that comes at watching a lord twice your size sprint at you with a lance."

"I'm alright," he says, his hands running gently along your back. You smile at him and lean in to kiss his lips softly. Jace hums contentedly into the kiss, his arms wrapping tighter around you as he pulls you into a corner and deepens the kiss.

Together, you stay locked there for a long moment, relishing the quiet that is so hard to find. Jace's hands travel through your hair and over your body, greedy to get his fill of you while he has you.

"I should get to the feast," you say softly when you break for air, your forehead pressed to his.

"Stay with me," he says, entwining his hand with yours.

"My father will be looking for me," you say. Jace's smile drops. "I'm trying," you say, "To sway him to our favor."

"I know you are."

"Your victory today should help with that," you say, giving him a small smile. "Congratulations, by the way."

"Thank you, My Lady," he says with a laugh. "I'll see you at the feast."

"Yes, My Prince."

By the next week, your father's attitude still hasn't changed. At the feast, you tried to talk about the prince, but he wouldn't hear anything of it. Jace had even come over to greet your family. Your father was diplomatic and only spoke to the prince for as long as he had to.

"I don't get why he won't give his blessing," you say, looking down at Jace. His head is in your lap, his eyes closed. He is so peaceful at this moment, you hate to bring this up again, but there seem to be fewer and fewer times for the two of you to be together. Even now, you are supposed to be with other ladies of the court, practicing your needlework. Instead, you snuck off to the Godswood to be with Jace amongst the blossoming trees.

"I'd be queen one day," you continue. "What more could he want for me?" Jace opens his eyes and looks at you with a frown.

"It's because of the rumors about me," he says lowly. You want to say he's wrong, but you wouldn't even believe yourself. The rumors of Jace's parentage had only grown in the last few years. It seemed that as he became older, and King Viserys grew sicker, the accusations only multiplied.

"I don't care about that, though," you say brushing your fingers through his hair.

"You should," he says, taking your hand in his own. "There are some who would see my brothers and I slain, rather than see us inherit our birthright."

"All the great houses swore allegiance to your mother," you say, squeezing his hand. "And you are her trueborn son. To do so would be--"

"Treason," he says, "But there are still those who would try it."

"My father wouldn't," you say. "As stubborn as he is, he is loyal to King Viserys, and by extension, your mother." Jace sits up, a serious expression on his face.

"Tensions are high amongst my family," he says, taking your hands in his. "In the entire kingdom, really. I am worried what may happen. Your father is smart, and that is why he must worry, too."

"You all fear something that may never come to pass," you say, "Are we to be separated in the name of what ifs?"

"We are to be separated until we can convince your father that I can keep you safe."

"And how do we do that?" you ask. Jace lays his head back on your lap.

"I don't know," he says.

The room is dark when you enter your father's quarters that night. He sent word to your lady's maid to see him immediately, but she couldn't find you until now, because you and Jace had been intwined in the Godswood all afternoon.

"Lady Clegane said she did not see you today," your father says right away, before you can even greet him. "Were you not to be under her tutelage this afternoon?"

"I don't need to study my needlepoint, Father," you say, stopping in front of him. "No man alive cares how well his wife can stitch."

"You were with the prince, weren't you?" he asks, standing. He towers over you, but you hold your head high, meeting his gaze.

"Why don't you like him?" you ask. He merely shakes his head.

"It is not a daughter's job to pick her husband," he says, "That duty lies with her father."

"And who would you have me marry instead? A lesser lord of the Westerlands? Someone directly under your control?"

"If that is what I demanded, yes," he says, bracing your arms. "I raised you to obey me, Y/N."

"No, you raised me to cage me," you say, tugging from his grip. "I would be Jacaery's queen! There isn't a more advantageous match out there for me. Yet you refuse to even hear us out, because it is not of your doing!" His face reddens, a telltale sign of his rage. You have never raised your voice to him before, and are now slightly scared of what he may do.

"I think it's time you return to Casterly Rock," he says lowly.

"What?" you ask, momentarily stunned.

"Your time in King's Landing is over," he says firmly. "You have become disobedient and careless."

"Father--"

"Do you think I am the only one who sees it, Y/N?" he asks, taking your hands in his desperately. His eyes are wide and pleading. "Do you think no one saw the two of you in the Godswood today? That no one can see the secret looks you exchange? That family is shameless, and I will have you take no part in it.

"I will not allow your reputation to be ruined by the prince's," he says. Tears begin to form at the finality of his words.

"When do I leave?" you ask, setting your jaw as you fight off the tears.

"I'll escort you the day after tomorrow, so you can make your goodbyes," he says. He can't meet your eyes.

"Very well."

Jace is speechless when you tell him. He found you sitting outside of his chambers the next night, tears streaming down your face. He invited you inside, a hurtle the two of you had yet to pass until then, and held you close while you told him your fate.

"We'll only have tonight," you say quietly.

"Maybe it's for the better."

"How can it be when it separates us?" you ask, looking up at him with watery eyes.

"Just for now," he says, brushing your hair back gingerly. "When things relax, we can try to convince him again."

"How long will that be?" you ask, "He'll have me married off as soon as possible, I know." Jace frowns down at you, his eyes searching for an answer in yours, that he knows he can't find.

"I won't stop fighting for you, Y/N," he says. "I promise."

"I won't either."

"We'll find a way," he says. You nod your head, a new wave of tears incoming, and relax into his chest. He holds you in his arms for a long time, his had tracing patterns along your back. The fire is nearly out in his hearth, and the room grows dark quickly.

"When did he say he wanted you back?"

"Fuck what he said," you say, looking at him intently. "I am not leaving your side tonight." With a hand to his cheek, you bring your lips together. The kiss is slow, a bit salty with the tears streaming down your face, but it is all he has ever wanted. He tries not to think about the fact that this might very well be the last time he ever gets to taste your lips, ever gets to hold you.

But it seems that your thoughts go there as well. Quickly, the kiss turns passionate. Your teeth scrape against his lip, like you can take him with you to Casterly Rock. His hands move down your body, to places he hasn't dared to explore yet. As one, the two of you move, so that he has you pinned to the couch, his body atop yours in a way he's only dreamed about before. You moan into his kiss as his body rocks into yours.

“Y/N,” he says breathlessly, forcing himself to break away from your kiss. Your lips are red, swollen from his touch. Your hair is spread out around you in a cascade of curls. It is torture to see you like this and not bring his body clashing into yours again.

“What?” you ask, your hand trailing down his chest, as if you need to touch him however you can.

“We should stop.”

“Why?”

“If anyone ever found out, you would be disgraced. Your father already doesn’t like me, I don’t want to give him any other reason to—“

“I’ll tell you something right now,” you say, “My good name is mine alone to disgrace. Being here with you now, doesn’t change a single thing about my honor.”

"Are you sure?"

"I need you, Jace," you whisper. You are barely able to finish the words before his mouth meets yours again, fiercer than before. He doesn't stay there too long. He needs to taste you everywhere, savor every moment he's got left with you.

His lips move across your face and down your neck. He loves the sounds you make when he bites down softly, the way your back arches your body into his. He sits the two of you up for just a moment, so that he can pull at the laces along your back.

When the top of your dress falls, he stares at your bare chest for a long moment. You smile at him, your skin flushed.

"You are so beautiful," he says. You grab hold of his face, kissing him again as you fall back onto the couch. Jace palms your breast, kneading gently as you whimper into his mouth. You pull at his clothes, too, until you rip his shirt off over his head.

Skin to skin now, Jace breaks from your lips to kiss down your chest. He lingers for a moment on your breasts, but his need to take you is growing too urgent. He moves down lower, tugging your dress down with him until you are fully exposed to him.

"Y/N," he says on a sigh, marveling at the sight of you.

"I love you."

"I love you," he says, dropping his lips to the folds at your center. The moan you let out is nearly enough to send him over, but he won't deny himself the opportunity to feel what it's like to be inside of you. He focuses on your pleasure, kissing the sensitive bud at the apex of your thigh, watching your face with rapt attention, seeing what action makes you cry out, which makes you thrust into him.

When you cry out his name, his watches proudly as your body clenches, waves of pleasure roll through you. Jace keeps up his actions for a few moments longer, tasting and savoring the moment as you come down.

When he sits up, he watches the rise and fall of your chest, the satisfied smile on your face. He kisses your lips passionately, treasuring the little sounds of happiness you make as he does.

He drops his trousers next, rubbing his cock against your slick folds. He presses into you slowly, barely able to keep his control, his need is so great. You gasp as you take him in, grabbing hold of his shoulders. He begins to rock into you, his movements gentle. As your sounds become more frequent, he picks up his pace, until the only sound he can hear is your cries of pleasure, and the collision of your two bodies.

He comes soon after that, his body collapsing on top of yours. For a long while, the two of you lay there, sweaty and happy, waiting for your breathing to return to normal.

"Jace," you say on a breath, breaking the silence first.

"Yes, my love?" he asks, his eyes meeting yours.

"This cannot be the last time," you say, cupping his cheek.

"It won't be. We'll find a way, I swear."

It's early morning when you return to your chambers. Your father collects you an hour later, and although the look he gives you suggests that he knows where you were, thankfully, he doesn't say anything.

The journey to Casterly Rock is long, taking nearly three weeks, and the entire time, your thoughts are on Jace. You bring him up a few times with your father, but after the most recent, he stops looking at you, stops speaking altogether, and rides astride his horse, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

When the news of King Viserys's death breaks, you hear it from your lady's maid. You shoo her away when she tries to finish braiding your hair. You know you should feel sad - Viserys was a great king, and had been sick for a long time. The last time you saw him, he looked like a walking corpse, and you had to avert your gaze.

But his passing means that Rhaenyra will be crowned queen. She will return from Dragonstone, where she fled just a week after you left King's Landing, and Jace with her.

You run from your chambers and burst into your parents' quarters, and find them talking in hushed, urgent tones. Your mother turns at your arrival and the look on her face scares you. There is panic in her gaze, mixed with a sadness that seems to grow when she sees you.

"Y/N," she says softly.

"I just heard the news."

"Yes."

"I expect we'll be leaving for King's Landing soon?" you ask, looking to your father. "For Princess Rhaenyra's coronation?"

"My dear," your mother says, a hand out to call you to her side. "Maybe you should sit down."

"What is it?" you ask as she sits you down in front of their empty hearth.

"Rhaenyra is not going to be queen," your father says.

"What do you mean?"

"Aegon has been crowned."

"He usurped the throne?" you ask in shock. "Are we gathering our bannerman? Should we--"

"Y/N," your father says with a sigh, taking your hands as he sits across from you. "We won't be calling our bannerman. We are supporting King Aegon."

"You swore allegiance to Rhaenyra," you say icily, looking between your parents' faces.

"I can't explain it all to you, daughter. There is much you don't understand."

"Uncle Tyland?" you ask quietly. Certainly, your level-headed uncle would see reason, when your father could not.

"He sits upon Aegon's small council," your father says.

"How long has this been planned?" you ask, moving away from your parents. The room suddenly feels too suffocating. Watching them, waiting for their response, you catch a quick look between your parents.

"How long have you known about this, Father?" you ask, stepping closer to look him in the eye.

"Rhaenyra was never going to be queen," he says lowly. "Regardless of the parentage of her sons. Although, that certainly didn't help her cause." You pull back from him, a look of disgust on your face. "And Aegon will make a good king."

"What will happen to Rhaenyra? To her sons?" you ask, the second question coming out broken. He doesn't answer. You look to your mother, hoping for some words of support from her, but she shares the same sad look on her own face.

"You've known this for so long . . ." you say, thoughts racing, "That's why you wouldn't approve an engagement between Prince Jacaerys and I."

"Yes," he says, "And I won't feel sorry for it. He'll be killed, no doubt. I don't want the same fate for you."

"But Daddy," you cry, calling him by a name you haven't in years, feeling as helpless as if you were still that child, "I love him!"

"It's already done, Y/N," he says, pain in his eyes. You let out a strangled sound before sliding down the wall.

"I'm having his baby," you say through a sob.

"What?" your mother asks urgently, crouching at your side. "What do you mean?" But no words come to you. The tears are falling too fast, any words choked by hiccupping.

Eventually, they bring you to your room. They both asked more questions about the baby, but you don't answer them, you can't. You don't trust them.

Your father had known this fate would befall Rhaenyra, would befall her sons. He knew you loved Jace, and he still let it all happen.

The next morning, your mother comes into your room. Her eyes are bloodshot, with dark circles underneath them. She brings you a cup of tea and kisses your forehead, before she says anything.

"Tell me about the baby," she says. "Are you certain?"

"No," you admit, bringing your knees to your chest. "But I haven't had my blood in a few weeks." Your mother nods and looks down sadly at her own drink.

"You'll need to drink moon tea," your mother says softly.

"I won't."

"Then you'll need to get married immediately, and claim the child as your new husband's."

"I won't do that either."

"Y/N," she begins with a sigh.

"You've already slammed the door on my whole world, I won't let you take this one last piece of him I have. If I am to have his child, I will keep it and I won't claim it as anyone else's."

"You'll be ruined," she says. "And if Aegon finds out that your child is Jacaerys's--"

"He won't. Nobody needs to know."

"Your father won't like this," she says gently. "You do not wish to make him angry."

"He's been angry. I've made my decision."

The next week, your cycle arrives, and you cry all day long.

"Sending another raven?" Rhaenyra asks, stepping out onto the cool balcony beside Jace. He gives her a tight lipped smile and nods. "Have you heard back from her?"

"Here and there," he says. He has been sending ravens to you for the past two weeks.

"I'm sorry your feelings fell into the middle of this mess."

"You have nothing to apologize for, Mother," he says seriously. She gives him a sad smile, a palm to his cheek.

"Baela tells me you have a plan to get her out," she says. Jace looks at her with wide eyes. He hadn't technically asked her permission, and what he was doing would be dangerous for their position.

"I know I should have told you," he starts.

"Yes, you should have. I would like to help," she says. She laughs at the bewildered look on Jace's face. "Do you think I would let you suffer here, knowing she's there, probably suffering too? Tell me your plan, Jace."

So he does. He gives her the same instructions he just sent to you. She gives him her support, while offering a few suggestions. She leaves him on the balcony after, giving him space to think over his plan, and to try and quell the hope building up inside of him.

All he is waiting for is one word from you, and he will enact this plan.

A day later, a raven knocks at his window, waking him from sleep. He leaps up immediately to grab its message, and finds just one word, written in your handwriting.

Yes.

On the morning of your escape, you awake with a smile on your face. It has been weeks since you felt anything at all. Your lady's maid enters into the room to ready you for the day, and you greet her, "Good morning."

"Good morning, My Lady," she says, looking at you in bewilderment. You're not sure you've spoken to her since you arrived at Casterly Rock. "I trust you slept well, then?"

"The best yet," you say.

As she moves about the room, getting your clothing together, you make sure to pick out the dullest dress in your wardrobe. When she sits you down to do your hair, you have her tuck your tendrils into a woven braid. Everything for indiscretion, or this plan will not work out.

When you walk into the breakfast room, your parents are gathered around a table. You give them a kind smile, playing the part of the dutiful daughter, knowing that your plans for escape were all laid.

"Good morning," your mother says, an air of suspicion in her voice.

"Morning," you say, sitting down next to her. "Good morning, Father."

"You haven't forgotten about your commitment today, I hope?" your father asks.

"No, I remember I am meeting with Lord Lannys today," you say innocently. He studies you for a moment like he doesn't believe you, but then his expression changes, or he forces it to. He forces himself to believe that you have finally pulled out of your darkness.

"Perhaps I'll accompany you down there," he says, "It's been a while since I have checked in on Lannisport."

"No," you say quickly. "You said you'd let me go with just a few guards."

"So I did."

"I have so little freedom," you say, "Am I to be chaperoned every day of my life?" The look on your father's face is one of remembrance, that this is the behavior he expects from his daughter.

"You will stay close to your guards," he says firmly.

"Of course."

"Our world is not as safe as it once was."

"I know."

"Very well."

You thank him and your mother, and when you bid them farewell, it is bittersweet. You try to see them as the loving parents you had when you were younger, but now you only see the causes of your heartbreak, and know that you're making the right call.

"When will she be here?" Joffrey asks impatiently, for the third time.

"Soon, I think," Jace answers.

"Why has it taken so long?"

"You don't have to wait with me, Joff," he says with a look to the younger boy. "It takes a long time to get here from the Westerlands."

In his plan, Jace had wanted to assure that your route would not be easily followable. The plan was for you to go to Lannisport and get aboard a ship that would take you to Seaguard. From there, you would travel by horse to Gulltown, where the Arryns would assure you passage to Dragonstone.

Yesterday, he got word that you arrived to Gulltown safely. If all went well, you would be in Dragonstone anytime now.

But the waiting was agony. Many times, Jace thought about saddling Vermax and flying out to you, just to get one glimpse of you. He knew himself, though, and knew that if he saw you, even from the air, he wouldn't want to let you out of his sights. He needed to wait patiently.

He was as bad as Joffrey, though.

When he finally sees your ship on the horizon, his heart starts beating faster. He rushes from his balcony and makes his way through the castle. Joffrey tries to keep up, but Jace loses him somewhere along the steps leading down to the shore.

Jace gets to the pier just as the small boat does. He doesn't think he is breathing as you step off the boat. Your eyes are searching for his and when they find him, a smile breaks across your face. You run towards him and he does the same, meeting you in the middle of the pier.

The second you are in his arms, you break down into tears. You cling to every part of him, your hands needing to touch him, needing to know that he is well. He realizes he is doing the same, his hand tangled in your hair, the other on your back.

"Oh, it's so good to see you," you say, pulling back just enough to look him over. Before Jace can say anything, you kiss him quickly, but fiercely.

"I'm so glad you're here," he says, hugging you again. You laugh, squeezing him just as tight.

"You're probably exhausted," he says, taking your hand and leading you back towards the castle. "You've had a long journey."

"Just a month," you say with a shrug, making him laugh.

"Well, you deserve your rest. I'll bring you right to my room," he says, "But there's one thing you'll have to do first."

"What's that?" you ask, furrowing your brow.

"Speak to my mother."

Dragonstone castle is not that much different from King's Landing, but it's unfamiliar, and unwelcoming. At least, the men sitting around Rhaenyra are. As you stand before them, some of your courage starts to slip.

"I am relieved to see you here safely, Lady Y/N," Rhaenyra says with a gentle smile.

"Thank you, Your Grace," you say. She stands and moves closer to you.

"I am sorry for having to do this, but seeing as your house has pledged their support to my brother, I have to ask where you allegiance lies," she says, stopping in front of you.

"With you, of course," you say immediately.

"You must know the risks, Y/N," she says, "You could very well be killed for supporting my claim and Jace's." For a moment, you glance back at your prince, and gather strength from his encouraging look.

"I'd burn my whole life down before I listen to another second of my father's scheming, and well before I bend the knee to Aegon Targaryen," you say.

"I love your son very much, I would never do anything to jeopardize his future, or yours, My Queen." Rhaenyra gives you a smile that is so much like her sons. She nods her head.

"Thank you, Y/N. Welcome to Dragonstone."

"Thank you, Your Grace," you say. Before you can even turn around, Jace's hand is in yours. He is looking down at you with a smile.

"Come on," he says, pulling on your hand gently. He leads you through the castle, up to his chambers, which will now be your own, he explains.

Once the doors close behind you, he is upon you, wrapping you in his arms as he kisses you. You smile into the kiss, realizing that this is not a dream, or just a passing moment. You'll get to stay in his arms for the rest of your lives.

"I love you," you say when you break away. "Thank you for getting me out of there."

"You're my lady, Y/N," he says, "And very soon I'll make you my princess. Of course I sent for you. I love you."

You wrap your arms around his neck, bringing your body into his again as your lips connect again.

"You must be exhausted," he says breathlessly. "You'll want to sleep."

"All I want is right here."