Me as the devil on your shoulder: ~give in to the lestappen drabble urges. You know you want toooo~ 😈
- zoomimal
The power of the shoulder devil anon is strong.
A Lestappen drabble inspired by this picture coming right up!
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Max sits on the couch on the terrace of the Red Bull motorhome, a santa hat on his head instead of the Red Bull cap he usually wears. The Abu Dhabi heat is as stifling as always, and trying to force the hat on top of his cap had proven to be out of the question the second Max had tried it. But, the producer had looked at him with puppy eyes, and his press officer had given him a sharp nod that had only meant one thing:
That he was to replace his beloved Red Bull cap with the warm, fuzzy, itchy santa hat, or there would be hell to pay.
Figuratively speaking, of course.
And Max Verstappen had faced the wrath of Vicky one too many times already. He didn't particularly feel like pushing his luck again.
So, he did as he was asked (read: told), and took the cap off, placing the santa hat in its place atop his head. And he did so with a smile on his face.
"Now, Max, I've just been told that your Secret Santa will be delivering your gift in person," the producer tells him, and there are cute little frown lines on her forehead as she speaks.
Max gives her a surprised look. "Oh? Doesn't that defeat the purpose of the Secret Santa thing?" he asks.
The woman gives him a sharp nod, brushing one perfectly curled strand of dark hair behind her ear.
"It does, but your Secret Santa was adamant on delivering the gift in person, and trying to talk him out of it has been impossible," she admits.
Now that grabs Max's attention, and he sits forward slightly in his seat, sharing a quick look with Vicky, who merely shrugs in response to his silent question.
"Well, now I'm really excited to see what it is."
The producer huffs a laugh. "So I take you're ready?"
"Definitely," Max says without missing a beat.
The producer looks at her cameraman, who nods in what appears to be confirmation that he's ready, too.
"Alright, bring him in!" she calls to someone over her shoulder, and Max looks at the open balcony doors expectantly.
From inside the motorhome, Max hears a door open followed by a muttered, slightly heated conversation and footsteps rapidly approaching the balcony. As whoever it is gets closer to the balcony, Max is pretty sure it sounds like somebody is being dragged through the room, which has the Dutchman inclining his head quizically. Then, moments later, Carlos pops through the balcony doors.
"Carlos, what the hell are you —," a distinctively familiar voice sounds from behind Carlos.
"Cállate," Carlos mutters, and Max's heart barely has time to pick up speed before the Spaniard physically drags a very confused, very disguntled Charles Leclerc out onto the balcony.
Charles Leclerc, who is wearing a massive, bright red bow on his head.
Max stares at the two of them in shock. And so does the producer. Somewhere to Max's right, out of the frame, Vicky is covering her mouth with a hand to suppress a giggle.
"Oh, my," the producer breathes, looking as confused as Max feels as they watch Carlos shove Charles towards Max.
"Carlos, I swear to God I am going to kill you," Charles says through gritted teeth.
Carlos, pretending like his teammate didn't just threaten his very existence, grins at Max as he forcibly pushes Charles to sit on the couch next to the Dutchman.
"Here you go. Feliz Navidad."
Max blinks at Charles, then at Carlos, who is already in the process of turning around to leave.
"Mate, what the fuck am I supposed to do with this?!" Max calls after him, gesturing in Charles' general direction, which makes Carlos pause by the balcony doors, looking at Max.
"You'll figure it out," he says unhelpfully. And as quickly as he had appeared, Carlos turns on his heels and strides back into the Red Bull motorhome, disappearing out of sight.
For a long moment, Max just stares after him, but his attention quickly shifts to Charles when the other man shifts on the couch next to him, letting out a displeased huff. His face looks like it's in the process of turning the same color as the bow on his head, and the Ferrari polo he's wearing.
"Uh —," Max starts intelligently, feeling his own cheeks burn. "Hi?"
"Hello," Charles greets far more nonchalantly than Max would have expected given the circumstances, and when the Monégasque turns his body slightly so he can face Max properly, some of the anger seems to fade from his green eyes. His expression looks almost — soft?
"Well, I suppose you now know who your Secret Santa is?" the producer picks that exact moment to ask Max a question, and the Dutchman's head snaps around to look at her. His heart is beating so hard in his chest that he can practically hear it.
"Yes, that was quite clear," Max admits, lifting a hand to rub at the back of his neck.
The producer looks between them, seemingly torn between confusion and amusement.
"I must admit that we've never seen this type of Secret Santa gift before," she goes on, glancing at the cameraman who nods his agreement. When she looks back at Max and Charles, she looks slightly unsure of how to proceed. She clears her throat three times before regaining her composure. "Charles, welcome."
"Thank you," Charles says immediately, polite as ever. "I apologize for my teammate. This is very embarrassing."
Next to Charles, Max is just staring at the other man, at a complete loss of words.
The producer chuckles. "Well, I must say the bow suits you, Charles. I take it you weren't exactly prepared for this?"
"Is it that obvious?" the Monégasque asks, tugging at the bow on his head to adjust its position.
"Do you reckon Carlos is right, that you'll 'figure out' what to do with —," she trails off, pausing briefly. "— this?" she goes on, gesturing between them.
Max barks a surprised laugh, pretending he doesn't notice the way his face feels like it's on fire. Probably looks like it, too. Instead, he looks at Charles, who's looking back at him expectantly, one eyebrow — the one that's not visible to the camera — raised. It sparks something warm and primal from deep within Max — something he hasn't allowed himself to properly feel before, despite the embarrassing amount of time he has wanted to.
"I'm sure we'll figure something out," Max eventually says, not missing the way Charles' tongue comes out to wet his lips at his words. And he doesn't miss the slight nod of approval from the Monégasque, either.
---
It turns out, figuring out what to do when he's suddenly "gifted" the driver who has been the object of Max's deepest desires for as long as he can remember is easy. Especially given how eager Charles turns out to be about the whole arrangement.
It's figuring out how to stop that's the problem.
Luckily, though, Charles isn't even a little eager for them to stop, at all. And Max is going to fucking take that and run with it.
Figuratively speaking, of course.
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Ooo! Let’s see, how about ‘Charles is part dragon and Max really is quite golden isn’t he?’ (Both are still drivers)
- Zoomimal
oh my GOD I love how vague and yet also specific this is. seriously resisting the temptation to write a quick thousand words about this, but resist I will because we all know it wouldn't be a thousand words.
I have two different ideas for this so here they are:
lighthearted, minimal angst, lots of fluff, lots of Charles admiring Max, porn, probably short
Charles has a metamorphic ability where he physically transforms into a dragon - some kind of genetic ability. In this world, I think these types of transformations would be fairly normal. Maybe not everybody has the ability, but it's common enough that people know it's possible and don't really blink an eye.
Charles, however, keeps it a secret, maybe because dragons are seen as destructive and he doesn't like people thinking that he must be like that.
but maybe because the dragon he transforms into is the size of a toy poodle and that embarrasses him.
anyway, nobody else on the grid knows (except maybe Pierre), and Charles tries very hard to suppress his urges and instincts but one of the things he can't suppress is how drawn he is to things that shine.
he used to just collects coins and paperclips and jewellery but lately he's struggling to satisfy his urge and he starts looking for bigger and bigger prizes. shiny helmets, pieces of carbon fibre. but eventually even that's not enough, so he has to branch out again: other drivers trophies, plaques and awards. but it's not quite what he needs, it doesn't quiet satisfy him.
and then he shares a podium with max, looks at him all flushed and sweaty and glowing under the bright lights of a night race, and realises that there is nothing more shiny and golden than Max Verstappen.
Charles would absolutely then transform into his cute poodle dragon form, lure max back to his hotel room (or Monaco apartment?) and force max is sit in the centre of his huge collection of Shiny Things, as his crown jewel, the pièce de résistance, and then he'd transform back into his human form and fuck max on top of his treasure.
you could definitely sub in Charles not being able to transform, just having dragon in his lineage somewhere, and all he's inherited is some of the tendencies.
2. angsty, long, exploring the themes of greed and facing the consequences of your actions
this would feature Charles being punished by being cursed to turn into a dragon every night. think some kind of cross over between brother bear and Shrek. he'd be cursed because he was too greedy, never satisfied with what he gets in life and always trying to have more, more, more.
max would know that he's been cursed and would help him try to find a solution. some kind of long adventure/journey/roadtrip where max is constantly annoyed by Charles complaining. maybe they're even exes and they broke up because of Charles' insatiability and his inability to appreciate what he has.
as the road trip progresses Charles would get more and more on edge, starting to wonder if they're ever going to fix him.
maybe Charles doesn't even know why max left him - maybe he thinks max couldn't handle Charles winning championships while max himself was being labelled as "washed up" and "old news".
the climax would definitely be them having a big fight and max finally telling Charles that, no, it wasn't because he was losing and Charles was winning, it was because winning had made Charles so unrecognisable that max had started to resent him. that he hopes Charles has to stay like this forever, because he deserves to have been punished/cursed for his greed.
max leaves, and Charles has to finish the rest of the journey alone, realising how lonely he is and how much he'd given up. he would in the end choose not to continue on his journey and instead go back to max to try and make things right.
doesn't necessarily have an ending about max being golden, but the imagery would be woven throughout as a motif ...
ok that was so fun and hard. send me an ask with a prompt idea and I'll plot it out!
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