#f1 drabble
Text
MILF
Toto Wolff x wife!Reader
Summary: Toto knows his wife is a MILF … but this doesn’t mean he is okay with his son’s friends calling you that
Warnings: teenage boys doing teenage boy things
Based on this request
“Pass the schnitzel, darling,” you say to your husband as the three of you sit down for dinner. Your teenage son has just gotten home from school, and you can’t wait to hear about his day.
Toto smiles at you as he passes the platter of breaded veal. “How was school?” He asks.
Lukas shrugs as he takes a bite. “It was okay,” he mumbles through a mouthful of food.
You give him a look. “Don’t talk with your mouth full, sweetie,” you gently chide. Even though he’s almost an adult now, you still see your little boy in him.
Lukas swallows and straightens up. “Sorry, Mum.”
“So tell us about your day,” you prompt. “Learn anything new and interesting?”
Your son fidgets in his seat. “Well … some of the guys were talking about you today.”
You raise your eyebrows in surprise. “Me? What about me?”
Lukas glances uncomfortably at his father. “Just … stuff they saw online. Paparazzi photos from when we were on the yacht last month.”
Toto sets his fork down, his expression darkening. He’s no stranger to being in the public eye, but he’s always been protective of you and Lukas. “What exactly were they saying?” He asks in a carefully neutral tone.
“They, uh …” Lukas rubs the back of his neck. “They called Mom a MILF.”
“A what?” Toto sputters, while you have to suppress a laugh. You’re familiar with the crude term, given your substantially younger age compared to your husband.
“It’s not funny!” Toto says indignantly. “I won’t have people objectifying my wife like that.”
You reach over and pat his arm. “It’s okay, dear. I’m not bothered by it.” You turn back to Lukas with an amused smile. “I’m flattered those boys think your old mom’s still got it.”
“You’re not old!” Lukas protests loyally. “It’s just, you know, you’re a lot younger than Vati, and you’re really pretty, so the guys notice.”
Toto scowls, but you grin and blow your son a kiss. “Thanks, sweetie.” Your playful reaction seems to visibly relax him.
“This is unacceptable,” Toto shakes his head. “I should call the school. Get those little punks suspended for sexual harassment.”
“Oh Toto, don’t be silly,” you wave dismissively. “They’re just teenage boys. I’m sure they didn’t mean any harm.”
“It doesn’t matter!” He insists. “Your dignity and privacy should be respected, not exploited. People think because we’re in the spotlight that they can say whatever vulgar nonsense they want.”
You reach over again and lace your fingers through his, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. “I know it bothers you, darling. But I married you knowing full well how public our lives would be. A little crude gossip comes with the territory.”
Toto opens his mouth to retort, then pauses, some of the indignation leaving his eyes. “I just don’t want anyone disrespecting you,” he says finally.
You smile softly. Even after all these years of marriage, your heart still flutters at his protectiveness. “I know. It’s one of the many things I love about you.”
Lukas makes a face. “Ugh, gross. Can you guys not be all mushy right now?”
You laugh and blow him another kiss. “Sorry Lukas. I can’t help it — your father’s the love of my life.”
Toto smiles back at you, the anger fading from his face. “And you’re mine, schatzi.”
Your son pretends to gag. “Seriously, stop. I’m trying to eat here.”
You chuckle and spear another bite of schnitzel. “Alright, we’ll behave. Now, tell me more about the rest of your day ...”
The conversation moves on to lighter topics as you finish up dinner. You listen attentively while Lukas fills you in on the drama with his friend group and his struggles in history class.
After clearing the dishes, the three of you move to the living room. You curl up next to Toto on the couch while Lukas sprawls out on the carpet to play video games.
You close your eyes contentedly and rest your head on your husband’s shoulder. Despite the lifestyle that being married to Toto provides you with, this right here is your happy place — your little family, spending a quiet evening at home.
Toto wraps an arm around you and presses a soft kiss to your temple. “Have I told you lately how lucky I am?” He murmurs.
You smile up at him. “Even after all these years, you still give me butterflies.”
“Good,” he says firmly. “I’ll tell you every day if I have to, until you’re sick of hearing it.”
Lukas groans loudly from the floor. “Could you guys be any more embarrassing?”
You and Toto both laugh. “What? I can’t tell my beautiful wife how much I love her?” He calls out in protest.
“Not when I’m right here!” Lukas complains. “Get a room or something.”
You grin mischievously. “That’s not a bad idea ...” you say, running a hand up your husband’s chest.
Toto’s eyes darken. “Minx,” he murmurs.
Lukas scrambles to his feet. “Okay, I’m out of here.” He gives you both a look of exaggerated disgust as he heads upstairs.
You and Toto chuckle as you listen to his bedroom door slam shut.
“Now, where were we?” Toto says in a low voice, pulling you closer. You bite your lip coyly as he presses his mouth to yours. No matter how many years go by, the chemistry between you is still electric.
You shift against him eagerly as the kiss deepens. His hands slide down to grip your hips, and you make a soft noise of pleasure. After nearly two decades of marriage, he knows exactly how to touch you.
“Tell me again,” you whisper when you finally break apart, slightly breathless.
Toto gazes into your eyes. “I love you,” he says sincerely. “I will always love you. Meeting you was the best thing that ever happened to me.”
You kiss him again, tenderly this time. “I love you too, Toto. Forever.”
No matter what people say or how famous you become, your relationship has always been grounded in this — the unwavering love between you. The rest of the world falls away when you’re together.
You rest your head contentedly on his shoulder again, his arms wrapped around you. This right here, next to the man who still looks at you like you hung the moon, is home.
***
The next day after school, Lukas comes home with a few of his friends in tow. You’re just finishing up putting away the groceries when you hear the chatter of teenage voices approaching.
“Hey Mum, we’re gonna hang out downstairs,” Lukas calls out as the group of boys raids the kitchen fridge for snacks.
You smile and give them a little wave. “Hi boys. There’s more drinks in the pantry if you need it.”
The teenagers rumble acknowledgements through mouthfuls of food before thundering downstairs to your home theater room. You chuckle and shake your head. Teenage appetites are truly a phenomenon.
You’re straightening up the living room when you hear the front door open again, signaling Toto’s return from work.
“Hello, liebling,” he greets you warmly, sweeping you into an embrace.
You kiss him in welcome. “How was work today?”
“The usual madness,” he sighs. “But coming home to you makes it all worthwhile.”
You smile up at him adoringly. Even after all these years, your heart still flutters at his smooth compliments.
“Oh, Lukas has some friends over,” you mention. “They’re downstairs watching movies or playing video games.”
Toto frowns a little. “Those wouldn’t happen to be the same friends who were objectifying you?”
You pat his chest placatingly. “Now dear, we talked about this. Don’t make a fuss.”
“Hmph.” He still looks slightly disgruntled. “Well, I should at least go down and say hello.”
You follow him downstairs, where the group of teenage boys are sprawled out on the sofas engrossed in some action movie. Explosions boom from the surround sound system as CGI buildings crumble onscreen.
They look up when you and Toto enter. “Oh hey Mr. Wolff,” one of them says.
“Vati, you remember my friends right?” Lukas introduces. “Jason, Andrew, Ryan, and David.”
“Ah yes, nice to see you boys again,” Toto says smoothly.
Too smoothly.
You can sense the storm brewing beneath his polite façade.
Sure enough, as the teens’ attention returns to the movie, Toto clears his throat. “So I heard you boys were discussing my wife the other day.”
The room goes silent, save for the cinematic explosions still blaring through the speakers. The boys glance around uneasily.
“Um, we didn’t mean anything bad by it,” David finally offers timidly.
Toto raises an eyebrow. “Oh? So objectifying and sexualizing a married woman is not meant to be disrespectful?”
The teens squirm under his icy stare. You put a warning hand on your husband’s arm, but he continues.
“Let me tell you something about my wife,” he says, an edge creeping into his tone. ���She is an elegant, successful, and highly intelligent woman. Not some piece of meat for you ogling schoolboys to drool over.”
The chastised boys all mumble apologies and stare fixedly at the floor.
Toto points a stern finger at them. “I trust there will be no further vulgar comments, or you won’t be welcome in this house again.”
“Yes sir,” they mutter. Lukas looks like he wants the leather couch to swallow him whole. You have to stifle a smile at your husband’s overprotective papa bear routine.
“Good. I’m glad we understand each other.” Toto straightens his suit jacket. “Now you boys enjoy your … movie.”
He turns and heads back upstairs, with you following after an apologetic smile to the shell-shocked teens.
Once you’re out of earshot, you swat his shoulder reproachfully. “Toto! Did you really need to traumatize the poor kids?”
“I didn’t traumatize them,” he huffs. “I just … explained a few things.” At your skeptical look, he amends “ … Firmly.”
You shake your head in exasperation. “You’re impossible. I thought I asked you not to make a fuss.”
He takes your hands earnestly. “I’m sorry, schatzi. I just can’t stand anyone disrespecting you. You deserve to be treated like a queen.”
You soften at the sincerity in his eyes. “Oh Toto. You’re too good to me.” You wrap your arms around him in a conciliatory hug.
He holds you close. “Nonsense. I’ll spend every day proving you’re the most important thing in the world to me.”
You snuggle against his chest, reminded yet again how lucky you are. Even when he overreacts, you know it comes from a place of devotion.
“Just promise me you’ll go easy on the boys,” you say wryly as you pull back. “I think you scared them straight for life.”
Toto smiles ruefully. “I suppose I did get a bit … intense. But the message won’t do any harm.”
You laugh and kiss his cheek. “My noble protector.”
He grins. “Proudly.”
Later, as the boys are getting ready to leave, Toto stops them at the front door.
“Before you go, I have one more thing to say,” he announces. The teens glance at each other nervously.
Toto looks each of them in the eye. “If I ever hear of you disrespecting my wife again, I won’t be so kind. You see, she’s actually a MIDF … Mother I Do Fuck.” He enunciates the words pointedly.
The teens’ eyes widen in horror, and Lukas turns bright red. “Vati!” He hisses in embarrassment.
Toto ignores him. “So I would appreciate it if you kept your crude comments to yourselves next time.” He gives them a tight smile. “Are we clear?”
The boys nod rapidly. “Yes sir. Crystal clear, Mr. Wolff,” one mumbles.
“Good.” Toto claps his hands together. “Then get home safely.”
After the front door shuts behind the fleeing teens, Lukas rounds on his father. “Oh my god, Vati! Why would you say that?”
He shrugs unapologetically. “I wanted to make sure they got the message loud and clear this time.”
Lukas just shakes his head in mortification before stomping upstairs.
You slide your arms around your unrepentant husband. “You just couldn’t resist, could you?”
“They left with a healthy dose of fear and respect,” Toto says smugly. “I think my work here is done.”
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Diamond of the First Water (Max Verstappen x Female Reader)
Genre: Fluff
Formula 1 meets the whispers of high society gossip. A crossover you never know you needed😉
Max Verstappen’s relationship with a talented actress, Y/N, takes a rough turn when she lands the role of Daphne Bridgerton opposite a charismatic co-star. Jealousy and insecurity grip Max as he struggles to cope with his feelings. Will their love survive the fast-paced drama of both the racetrack and the Regency era London set of "Bridgerton"?
Max sits on the couch, his laptop open in front of him. He clicks play on the latest promo for the Bridgerton series, his eyes fixed intently on the screen.
As the scenes unfold, showcasing the undeniable chemistry between you, his girlfriend of 3 years and Regé-Jean Page, Max's jaw tightens slightly. He can't deny the pang of jealousy that twists in his chest as he watches their on-screen romance unfold, where you starred as Daphne Bridgerton.
"Looks like you and Regé are hitting it off," he said with a scoff, his eyes narrowing as he watches the scenes play out. Despite his attempt at nonchalance, insecurity lingers.
With each new promo snippet, Max finds himself drawn deeper into the story. He watches as you and Regé-Jean share intimate moments, his heart clenching with a weird mixture of both pride and jealousy.
Max's finger hovers over the mousepad, hesitating for a moment before clicking on a short clip that has sent the internet into a frenzy. The iconic scene plays out on the screen, showcasing Regé-Jean as he delivers the unforgettable line, "I burn for you."
As the scene unfolds, Max's breath catches in his throat, his eyes widening slightly at the intensity of the moment. He can feel his heart rate quicken as he watches the raw emotion in Y/N's eyes, her performance bringing the character of Daphne to life in a way that captivates audiences around the world and he can see why.
Another round of jealousy flares within him as he realizes the impact of the scene, knowing that millions of viewers are falling under the spell of his girlfriend's on-screen chemistry with the newest heartthrob. "Quite the scene," he murmurs to himself, possessiveness coloring his words. Despite the swirling emotions within him, Max can't tear his eyes away from the screen, captivated by the power of the performance and the undeniable magnetism of the world building. People might not would’ve guessed that the Max Verstappen loves a good period drama.
_________________________________________
The next day, Max is in the middle of a training session when his phone buzzes with a text from Charles, and he glances down to see a link. Curiosity piqued, he opens it and finds himself directed to a recent interview featuring of course, Regé-Jean Page.
"So, Regé, let's get down to the important questions, shall we? We've heard rumors swirling around the set of Bridgerton about a certain someone catching your eye. Care to set the record straight?"
Regé chuckles, voice smooth as honey, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “Ah, I see you've been talking to the gossip columnists. Well, I'm afraid I can neither confirm nor deny anything at this time."
“Oh, playing it coy, are we? But seriously, the world is dying to know – who is your celebrity crush?"
His smile widens, and he leans back in his chair, considering the question with mock seriousness. "Well, you know, there are plenty of beautiful and talented people out there in the world of entertainment. But if I had to choose just one, I suppose I'd have to say... Y/N."
The interviewer raises an eyebrow, feigning surprise. "Y/N? As in the leading lady of Bridgerton herself?"
Regé nods, a sheepish grin spreading across his face. "Guilty as charged. What can I say? You cannot play a role alongside her and not fall in love. It's just impossible."
The interviewer chuckles, clearly enjoying the playful exchange. "Well, I'm sure Y/N will be thrilled to hear that. And who knows? Maybe there's a real-life love story brewing behind the scenes of Bridgerton."
Regé laughs, a twinkle of mischief in his eyes. “I couldn't possibly comment on that. But I will say this – working with Y/N has been an absolute joy, both on and off screen."
Max's hand clenches as he watches the interview, the weight of Regé’s words settling heavily on his shoulders. Despite the playful tone of the interview, there's a sincerity in his declaration that sends envy coursing through Max's veins.
He closes his eyes briefly, trying to push down the feelings of insecurity. But try as he might, he can't shake the nagging fear that Regé’s words hold a kernel of truth, that perhaps his girlfriend's on-screen chemistry has spilled over into something more.
With a heavy sigh, Max pockets his phone and returns his focus to his training, the weight of the interview lingering in the back of his mind like a shadow he can't shake.
_________________________________________
After a grueling session, Max emerges from the track, his muscles tense and his mind still buzzing with the weight of the interview. As he heads towards the paddock, he spots Charles leaning against the wall, sipping a cold drink.
"Hey, Max.”
Max grunts in response, his thoughts still somewhere else.
Charles arches an eyebrow, noticing Max's preoccupied demeanor, “Everything alright, mate? You seem a bit... off."
Max hesitates for a moment before deciding to confide in his fellow driver, "Yeah, just... had a bit of a run-in with the gossip mill today."
Charles let out an amused laugh, "Ah, you’ve catched that interview with Regé-Jean Page then?”
Max's eyes narrow slightly as he regards Charles, Charles chuckles, his grin growing wider, “Seems like he's really into her, huh? For someone who's supposedly just doing it for promo," he said with a shrug.
Max pauses in his tracks, Charles's words echoing in his mind. He turns back to face the Monégasque, a crease forming between his brows, “You think so?"
Charles nods, his expression thoughtful, “Yeah, I mean, sure, it's all part of the promo game, but there was something in the way he said it... seemed pretty genuine to me."
Max's lips thin into a line as he considers Charles's observation. Despite his initial dismissal of Regé’s declaration, a part of him can't shake the nagging feeling that there might be more to it than just publicity, "I guess we'll never know for sure."
Charles claps Max on the shoulder, offering him a reassuring smile, "Don't let it get to you, mate. At the end of the day, you know where you stand with Y/N. And if Regé wants to play the celebrity crush game, well, that's his prerogative. You're the one she comes home to."
Max nods, a sense of resolve settling over him. He may not be able to control the rumors swirling around Bridgerton, but he can control how he reacts to them, "Thanks, Charles. I needed to hear that."
With a nod of appreciation, Max turns and continues on his way, the weight of Charles's words giving him a newfound sense of clarity. Whatever may come, he knows that his relationship with Y/N is built on a foundation of trust and love, and nothing – not even a charming actor and a flurry of gossip – can shake that.
_________________________________________
On his way home, Max decided to shoot you a quick text, “Hey schatje, how’s your day going?”
Y/N response came in seconds with a picture of you and Regé, “Hi baby, I’m out for coffee right now with Regé, he says hello to you”
Max's heart skips a beat as he reads Y/N's response, a surge of mixed emotions washing over him. But he takes a deep breath, pushing those feelings aside as he forces himself to respond, “Coffee with Regé, huh? Tell him I said hello back."
Despite the weight on his chest, Max forces a smile as he hits send, trying to push aside his insecurities and trust in the strength of his relationship with you. But as he waits for her reply, the image of Y/N and Regé together lingers in his mind, further fueling the flames of his unease.
Max's fingers hover over his phone, hesitating for a moment before he types out his next message, “What time do you think you'll be home, schat?”
When the ‘ping’ finally comes, it's like a weight being lifted from his shoulders, but it's quickly replaced with a sense of resignation. “It'll be late darling, so don't wait up."
Max's jaw tightens as he reads the message. He knows he shouldn't let his insecurities get the best of him, but the image of Y/N and Regé together won’t go away. His minds pulling all sorts of mean tricks on him.
With a heavy sigh, Max sets his phone down on the passenger seat beside him, the glow of the screen casting a faint light in the dimly lit car. The quiet hum of the engine fills the air as he drives through the empty streets, the silence broken only by the occasional sound of passing cars.
As he navigates the familiar route home, Max's mind is consumed by a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. The image of Y/N and Regé replays in his mind like a broken record. He even think about slapping himself, hard, to clear his mind.
And as he finally pulls into the driveway of their apartment, he can't help but feel a sense of loneliness settle over him, longing for the comfort and reassurance that only your presence can bring. And there’s not much of that these days.
_________________________________________
The next day, as Max arrives at the track, he finds Charles and Carlos waiting for him near the paddock, wearing matching mischievous grins, “Max! We thought we'd grab lunch together today. What do you say?" Charles asked.
Max's eyebrows furrow in surprise at the unexpected invitation, but he can't help but feel a flicker of gratitude at the gesture. “Sure, sounds good. Thanks, guys."
As they head to the nearby café, Charles and Carlos make a team effort to keep the mood light, peppering the conversation with jokes and anecdotes from past races.
"So, Max,” Carlos starts, “Heard you've been spending a lot of time with Netflix lately. Regé giving you a run for your money?"
Max chuckles, rolling his eyes good-naturedly, “Yeah, something like that. It's a whole new world for me, y’know? Used to dating models and them doing quick photoshoots. Now, it's all about the long hours on set and endless promo tours."
Charles raises an eyebrow, a teasing glint in his eye, “Ah, so you're not used to your girlfriend spending more time with her co-star than with you?"
“Hey, watch it, mate. I'm not about to let some actor steal my girl.”
Carlos laughs, shaking his head in amusement, “Well, if Regé ever gets too cozy with Y/N, just let us know. We'll take care of it on the racetrack."
_________________________________________
That night, as you walked through the door, your heart swelled with anticipation of finally spending quality time with Max after a long while on set. However, instead of the warm embrace you were expecting, you were met with a cold silence. Max was sitting on the kitchen table, his expression unreadable.
Confusion etched across your features, you approached him cautiously, “Darling, is everything okay?"
He looked up, his gaze piercing, "Are you into him, huh?" He spat out, his words might as well have been laced venom.
Your heart sank, confusion flickering in your eyes, "What? Max, no, of course not," you replied softly, trying to keep your voice steady despite the rising emotions.
Max's jealousy bubbling to the surface, “I see the way you look at him, the chemistry between you two on set. It's like you forgot you have a boyfriend waiting for you back home.”
You knelt down in front of him, reaching out to gently cup his face, willing him to understand. "Max, surely you can’t think this. You're the one I love, the one I want to be with. But acting is just that—acting. It's not real."
Max angrily brushed you off as you tried to reason with him, his frustration palpable in every movement. Ignoring your pleas, he stalked towards you until you were backed against the wall, his eyes blazing with jealousy.
"Do you like it when he kisses you?" he demanded, his voice harsh and accusing. "Is he a better kisser than I am, schat?”
Your heart pounded in your chest as you felt the weight of his anger bearing down on you. Swallowing hard, you met his gaze with a mix of defiance. "No, Max," you replied firmly, refusing to let his words break you. "He's not and that doesn’t even matter.”
His grip tightened on your shoulders, his expression torn between anger and vulnerability. "Then why do I feel like I'm losing you?" he whispered, his voice raw with emotion.
You reached up to cup his face, the warmth of your touch a stark contrast to his simmering rage. "You're not losing me, Max," you reassured him, your voice soft but unwavering. "I'm right here."
For a moment, he seemed to waver, his resolve crumbling in the face of your unwavering love. And then, with a heavy sigh, he pulled you into his arms, burying his face in the crook of your neck. "I'm sorry, Y/N," he murmured against your skin. "I just... I can't bear the thought of losing you. Watching all those clips drove me insane.”
You held him close, feeling the tension in his body slowly melt away. "You won't lose me, Max," you whispered, pressing a gentle kiss to his temple. "You know I’m yours, my love, and have always been yours.”
Max leaned back slightly, his eyes searching yours for any hint of the truth. "Do you think he likes you for real?" he asked, his voice laced with uncertainty. "Because it certainly seems that way."
You shook your head, a soft smile playing at the corners of your lips. "Max, it’s just acting. Regé is a professional, and so am I."
He studied your face intently, as if trying to decipher the truth hidden within your words. "But the way he looks at you..." he trailed off, unable to voice the insecurity that gnawed at him.
You reached up to gently cup his cheek, forcing him to meet your gaze. "Max Emilian, look at me," you urged softly. "You're the only one I want. I chose you, and I'll keep choosing you every single day."
A flicker of doubt crossed his features before he finally nodded, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly. "I'm sorry, Y/N," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. "I let my jealousy get the best of me."
You smiled tenderly, pressing a kiss to his lips. "It's okay, baby. We all have our moments. What matters is that we work through them together."
Feeling the tension ease between you, you gently took Max's hand and kiss the back of it, offering him a reassuring smile. "You know, if you're feeling uneasy, you could always come to set and see for yourself," you suggested. "I'd love to introduce you to Regé."
Max's expression softened at your offer, a hint of curiosity flickering in his eyes. "Really? You'd be okay with that?"
You nodded, squeezing his hand gently. "Of course. I want you to feel secure in our relationship, Max. And I want you to see firsthand that there's nothing going on between me and him. We’re just friends.”
A small smile tugged at the corners of Max's lips as he leaned in to press a tender kiss to your forehead. "Thank you, liefje. That means a lot to me."
Laughing softly, you playfully teased Max, "Come here, you big baby," before pulling him close.
As your lips met in a sweet kiss, the tension of the moment melted away. As if it’s never been there on the first place.
_________________________________________
Max finally secured a week off from his demanding training schedule, and Y/N couldn't wait to share her world with him. As he often whisked her to every Grand Prix, but he has never been to any of her filming set.
As Max stepped onto the sprawling set of "Bridgerton," his eyes widened in awe at the bustling activity around him. Towering structures resembling the grandeur of Regency-era London loomed in the distance, while a flurry of costumed actors and crew members darted about, bringing the world of the early 1800s to life.
Y/N grinned beside him, her eyes sparkling with excitement as she led him deeper into the heart of the set. "Welcome to the world of Bridgerton," she said, her voice dripping with pride.
Max couldn't help but marvel at the meticulous attention to detail evident in every corner of the set. From the ornate costumes to the elaborate set pieces, it was as though he had been transported back in time.
"This is incredible," Max breathed, doing a 360 degree turn to take in the sights around him.
Y/N squeezed his hand affectionately. "I'm glad you think so. It's been such an amazing experience being a part of this production."
As they wandered through the bustling set, Y/N introduced Max to her co-stars and fellow crew members, each interaction filled with warmth.
And finally, “Max, this is Regé," Y/N said, gesturing to a dashing man in period attire. "He plays Simon Basset, the Duke of Hastings."
Regé extended his hand with a friendly smile. "Pleasure to finally meet you, Max. Y/N's been telling us all about you."
Max shook his hand, feeling a pang of jealousy despite himself. "Likewise," he replied, forcing a tight smile.
Throughout the day, Max watched in fascination as scenes were meticulously rehearsed and filmed, the air alive with creativity and passion. And as he witnessed Y/N slip effortlessly into the role of Daphne Bridgerton, her talent shining brightly alongside her co-star, Max couldn't help but feel a swell of admiration for the woman he loved. Seeing her at her natural element makes him adore her even more.
"It's been amazing seeing you in action," he said to Y/N, pulling her close.
Y/N smiled up at him, her eyes alight with happiness. "I'm glad you could be here with me, Max. It means the world to me."
With a playful glint in her eye, she nudged him gently. "You've been avoiding Regé all day," she teased, her voice laced with affection. "I thought you'd be eager to track him down."
Max chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. "I guess I just didn't want to intrude on your scene," he replied, attempting to mask his unease.
Y/N raised an eyebrow, a knowing smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "Oh, come on, Max. I know you're not one to shy away," she teased, linking her arm through his. "Come now, don’t be rude.”
Max's sighed, conceding defeat. "Alright, alright.”
As they approached Regé, now in his everyday clothing, to his surprise he greeted him warmly, despite him being an asshole throughout the day. “This might sounds weird but I've been a fan of the sport for years, ever since I first saw Lewis Hamilton in action."
Max’s interest piqued. "That so?” he replied.
"I've watched so many of your races!" Regé continues, his admiration evident in his voice. "You're great, mate."
Max's cheeks flushed with a hint of pride at the praise. "Thanks, I appreciate that," he said, genuinely touched by Regé's words.
Y/N beamed at the exchange between the two men, delighted to see them finally talk. "I told you he's a big fan," she said, teasing Regé playfully.
Regé grinned sheepishly. "Guilty," he admitted, his enthusiasm unabashed. "I try to catch every race I can. There's something about the speed and precision of it all that's just mesmerizing."
Max felt a wave of relief wash over him as he realized he had more in common with Regé than he had initially thought. The fact that he is also a genuinely nice bloke also helps.
As Y/N excused herself to talk to the director, Max found himself alone with Regé, the air tinged with a slight awkwardness. Sensing the tension, Regé cleared his throat and turned to face Max with a sincere expression.
"Listen, Max," Regé began. "I just wanted to apologize if I ever made you uncomfortable. It was not my intention as I am just doing my job."
Max blinked in surprise at Regé's unexpected apology, his guarded demeanor melting away. "Oh, no, it's cool," Max reassured him quickly. "I understand. It's all part of the promotion game, right?"
Regé nodded, relief evident in his eyes. "Exactly," he said earnestly. "Most of those interviews are scripted anyway. But I just wanted to make sure you know that I didn't mean to come off too strong."
Max smiled, feeling a wave of gratitude towards Regé for his sincerity. "No worries, man," he said, clapping a hand on Regé's shoulder. "I appreciate you saying that. And hey, it's actually really cool to meet another fan of the sport."
Regé's smile widened at Max's words, the tension between them dissipating completely. "Definitely," he agreed warmly. "Maybe we can catch a race together sometime."
Max's grin mirrored Regé's. "Actually, how about I get you access to the Paddock Club for Silverstone? It's an experience every F1 fan should have."
Regé's eyes widened in surprise and excitement. "Seriously? That would be incredible!" he exclaimed, unable to contain his enthusiasm.
Max chuckled. "Consider it done," he said with a grin. "I'll make sure you have the best view of me winning.”
Y/N returned, her eyes sparkling with curiosity as she slipped her arm around Max's waist. "What are you boys plotting about?" she asked, clearly intrigued by the conversation she had interrupted.
Max exchanged a knowing glance with Regé before turning back to Y/N. "Ehh just making plans for Silverstone," he replied. "I'm getting Regé access to the Paddock Club so he can experience F1 up close."
Y/N's eyes widened in delight, her smile widening. "That's amazing!" she exclaimed. "Regé, you're going to love it!"
Regé grinned from ear to ear. "I can't wait," he said eagerly, his eyes shining with anticipation. "Anyways, I'll catch up with you guys later. It was great meeting you, Max."
Max tipped his head. "Likewise," he said warmly. "Take care, man."
Y/N couldn't help but tease, "Aw, look at the two of you getting along so well. To think, not a few days ago, you would've punched him in the face," she remarked.
Max chuckled, shaking his head at the memory of his initial impression. "Yeah, well, I guess you could say he grew on me," he replied, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.
#f1 fanfic#f1 fic#f1#f1 blurb#f1 drabble#f1 fandom#f1 x you#f1 x reader#f1 imagine#f1 fic rec#formula 1#formula 1 x female reader#formula 1 x y/n#formula 1 x you#formula 1 x reader#max verstappen#max verstappen imagine#max verstappen x you#max verstappen x reader#max verstappen x y/n#bridgerton#regé jean page
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short lestappen drabble: super horny doctor!max & nurse!charles. They'd be going at it in the shower, locker room, empty hospital room, room behind the reception counter. Just any place and time that gives them a sort of privacy. They get so horny looking at each other work that they just HAVE to fuck it out right then. When they're overlooking the same patient, max would grope charles' ass or when max is explaining something to charles and charles runs his hand down max's chest al the way to cup max's slowly hardening cock.
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Hi sweetheart!!!!!!!!!!!! for the drabble thingy, 9, D, sebchal👀💖 love you💖💖
oh my god this was so fucking fun to write, thank you for the GENIUS prompt choice love!!!! cranked this out before i went to bed, i hope you enjoy the slight crack vibes!!!!
prompts here xx
Oops! All Twink Death (Charles Leclerc/Sebastian Vettel, 1k words)
His head is too far up on the pillow.
In fact, it’s all wrong; the sheets are pulled up too high, not pooled around his feet like they usually are. There's a second pillow pressed up against his back -- actually, why is he sleeping on his side? He's been a stomach sleeper his entire life.
Sebastian groans, rolling over. It's never a good sign to break routine on a race weekend, especially when it's so easy for the smallest detail to linger like a rain cloud overhead -- a constant feeling of wrong-footedness. Cutting his losses, he peels back the sheets and flings his legs over the edge of the bed, slamming them onto the floor with much more force than usual.
Is the bed… lower?
His feet shouldn't touch the floor that quickly.
His hands grip the edge of the bed as he stares down at his feet. Suddenly, he catches it from the corner of his eye -- longer fingers, more pronounced veins on the back of his tanned hands, and well-manicured nails. His stomach lurches when he brain catches up, a panicked confusion building in his throat.
Because those aren't his hands. Sebastian knows these hands, knows the way they feel against tongue and teeth and flesh. Faster than a jump start, Sebastian flies off the bed -- tripping over his bigger feet -- and stumbles over to the bathroom mirror.
In Charles's distinct accent, he gasps: "What the fuck."
Frantic knocking on his hotel door confirms his immediate thoughts: that should be Charles with his body, then.
With careful steps, his new center of gravity more unsettling than sailing rough seas, Sebastian moves to open the door. "You'll wake the neighbo--"
"What did you do?!" Charles cuts him off, pushing his way into the room and grabbing Sebastian -- himself? -- by the wrist, dragging them both away from the door.
"What did I do?" He scoffs, both a little offended and amused as Charles paces across the room, tugging his hands through his hair agitatedly. It's bizarre, seeing Charles's youthful and expressive body language on himself -- almost like a return to a Sebastian long-gone.
"Well of course it wasn't me!"
"I mean, at least we switched with each other?" Sebastian offers, moving to sit down on the bed. He pats the space next to him, encouraging Charles to come tangle in his arms; maybe it's best if they both calm down first. "Because, well, it could be worse, right?"
"Could it?" Charles asks, voice pinched and eyes bright -- nearly manic. "I'm old, Sebastian!"
Ouch.
Sebastian smiles wryly. "Oh are you?"
If Sebastian didn't have the hottest driver on the grid wrapped around his finger -- if he hadn't always had the most desirable drivers under his thumb -- then maybe that would have hurt. But as it is, Charles acting like a panicked, distressed kitten is almost endearing -- batting at him without claws.
"It's --!" He stutters, finally freezing to stare over at his own body; Sebastian looks like a cat eyeing it's prey. "It's not old on you, but on me! I'm old!"
Sebastian didn't realize his accent got so heavy when his body was angry, nor that he could still blush so much.
"No wonder Mark always wanted to sleep with me," He smiles, eyeing his body up and down slowly. "I see the, hm. Appeal."
"Oh my god, it is not the time to be --!" Charles flutters his hands about, waving vaguely between the both of them. "We're fucked, Seb! And you already know what they are saying about me on Twitter, that my beard is --"
"Really hot?" Sebastian perks up, still trying to steer the conversation in a more… palatable direction.
"That it makes me look like I'm in, you know, twink death." He says it with derision, like speaking the words sealed his fate.
He can't help but laugh, laughing harder when he sees Charles's blush deepen -- running down his neck and towards his chest. "I'm sure you won't twink die, or whatever you're reading --"
"Twink death, Seb." He sounds nearly on the brink of tears -- god, yeah, Mark really had a point here.
Clearly it's not about being in Sebastian's body, really. It's something bigger.
"Oh Charles," Sebastian sighs, reaching his arms out to grab Charles's wrist; he never realized how small his hands are compared to Charles's before, the feeling of wrapping his fingers around him so easily makes him lightheaded.
Anyways.
He tugs Charles onto the bed, landing next to him with a pout. "You've never looked better than you do right now," Sebastian whispers in his ear, snagging his teeth on Charles's -- his? -- earlobe, the way he knows his body likes.
Charles shudders, Sebastian's hot breath on his sensitive skin surely sending shivers down his spine. Encouraged, Sebastian grabs Charles's hands and slides them under his shirt, pressing them against Charles's body's torso. "Do you know how much I love how big you feel now?"
"Seb," Charles whines, voice delightfully needy; Sebastian can't decide if he likes it better in his or Charles's accent. "That's not, you know that's not what I --" Sebastian pulls his hands up further, tracing the paths he's learned elicits a shudder from Charles's body.
He grazes his nipples, and his breath catches. God, is this what it always feels like for him?
"Wanna fuck about it?" Sebastian asks, mischievous smile on his lips, the feeling sharp and confident with Charles's beautiful mouth.
"Oh Jesus," Charles falls forward, burying his face in Sebastian's neck.
"Yeah?"
"Fuck, yeah. Yeah, ok."
Problem solved, probably. The self-esteem part, anyways. The body problem can wait until later, probably.
#EDITING AND PROOF READING IS FOR COWARDS#AND I AM NOT A COWARD!!!#anyways the idea of having charles say 'twink death' made me laugh way too hard to not include#thank u for understanding#prompt fills#f1 drabble#sebchal#f1 rpf#f1 fanfic
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★ how does f1 drivers react when you call them pretty. . .
norris, piastri, leclerc, sainz, hamilton, russell, verstappen
cw: fluff, slight suggestive (verstappen), f!reader.
now playing: pretty boy by the neighborhood
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✹ lando norris
lando would be the type to act annoyed but absolutely loves it. he just won't admit it but you know it.
"hey, pretty boy", you whisper against his lips, leaving a sweet peck on it just to be met with a pouty and flustered lando. "i told you to stop calling me that!" he whines, but deep down he hopes that you'll never stop. you look at him with a playful smile, softly caressing his hair. "okay, i'll stop if it makes you uncomfortable", you wait impatiently for his reaction and as you excepted, lando start to panic. "i mean... you can but you know... just not in front of other people", he laughs nervously, hoping that his excuse is good and his cheeks start heating up. you can't help but laugh softly, pulling him close by the neck and lando pouts again, "stop making fun of me!", your smile softens and you plant another kiss on his lips, "sorry, you're just too cute, my pretty boy". lando's cheeks are now completely red and he tries to hide it by pulling you in a long and warm kiss, feeling the butterflies going crazy in his stomach.
✹ oscar piastri
oh my god, please don't do this to him. as soon as he hears the word, his brain starts malfunctioning.
"you did so good!", oscar pulls you for a warm hug, holding you as tight as he can. he loves seeing you after races and hearing how proud you are of him no matter what he do. you pull out, staring at him like his eyes holds stars and oscar can't help but feel overwhelmed by all the adoration he sees in your eyes. you put your hand on his cheek, stroking it softly. "i'm so proud of you, my pretty boy" and even though you mean it, a hint of teasing can be heard and oscar groans, pulling you in a new hug to hide his face in your neck "if you call me that again, i think i'm gonna die" he mumbles against your skin. you laughs, one of your hands slides in his messy curls, your fingers playing with it. you will never get over how cute your boyfriend is when you call him pretty.
✹ charles leclerc
he absolutely loves it and won't deny it, even if he gets a bit shy when you call him pretty. he can't control it, his heart gets warm and the butterflies in his stomach goes crazy.
you were getting ready for a cute date and charles was wearing a new shirt, with flowers on it. as soon as he's ready, you lock your arms around his neck and you look at him with a big smile on your face. after planting a sweet peck on his lips, one of your hands cup his cheek. "you're so pretty, baby", your voice is full of adoration and honesty and charles' smiles gets wider. "thank you, chérie", he says softly and he immediately pulls you for a gentle kiss, hoping that you didn't notice the way his cheeks has redden, but you didn't miss it.
✹ carlos sainz
he loves it, like really loves it. he finds it funny tbh. and he won't hesitate to give the word back to you.
"woah, what a pretty boy", you look at him showing you his brand new haircut. he laughs, posing in front of you a little more before joining you on the sofa, pulling you on his lap and placing a kiss on your nose. "got pretty for my pretty girl, we are such a pretty couple", you both giggles before sharing a kiss, laughing and smiling against each other's lips. but, even if he doesn't want to admit it, carlos can feel his heart beating a bit faster and a sweet feeling in his stomach when he hears you call him pretty.
✹ lewis hamilton
he would get so shy, make it seems like he doesn't like it and it annoys him but he can't hide it for long, he always ends up with a big smile on his face and a heart beating faster than it should.
"ahhh, stop it y/n", he whines as you continue to leave kisses all over his face, sitting on his lap. "but, you're so pretty!", you say, cupping his cheeks to look at him in the eyes. he groans, acting annoyed by pulling you out of his lap and you try your best to fight the smile creeping on your lips. you both know that he's just flustered and wants to hide his red cheeks. "come on, baby, let me finish my kisses", he doesn't fight you when you climb back on his lap but he crosses his arms, trying to hold onto his character and you laugh softly, going back to leaving small pecks all over his face. it doesn't take long before he finally smiles, his hands finding your waist to pull you close and kiss you back. he just can't resist you.
✹ george russell
he always tries to ignore the way it makes him feel and act unbothered but he can't fight the way his body warm and a smile instinctively forms on his lips. he just loves getting praised by you.
"baby, can you pass me the knife, please?" you ask, preparing the vegetables and george, who has been helping and watching you cook for an hour now, hand you the knife as fast as he can. you turn to face him, placing your free hand on his neck to pull him close, "thank you, pretty boy", you says softly and he places a kiss on your lips, smiling softly "you're welcome" he says, trying to sound as neutral as he can and you pout, acting disappointed, "what? you don't like when i call you that?", you know that he do. you just want to hear it. he looks at you, a playful smile forms on his lips. "i know what you're doing", he chuckles and pulls you for another kiss. you end up both laughing, george's heart feeling full.
✹ max verstappen
he gets all nervous and doesn't know how to act anymore. like, if you want to make a mess of this man, just call him pretty.
max have been acting flirty all day, enjoying teasing you and seeing you all flustered in front of other people. you tried your best to keep your cool all day, playfully punching him from time to time or just laughing it off. but when you two end up alone at the end of the day, you're finally able to get your revenge. you start making out, getting more and more touchy and needy. "take off your shirt, pretty boy", you whisper in his ear, and max almost startle. a playful smile forms on your lips and you don't even have to look at him to know that his cheeks are now red. after a good minute of no reaction from him, you finally meet his eyes, giving him a confused look. "is everything okay?", you try to hide your teasing tone but max doesn't miss it, a playful grin finally forming on his lips and he chuckles; "naughty girl".
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#f1 x reader#f1 fluff#lando norris x reader#oscar piastri x reader#charles leclerc x reader#carlos sainz x reader#george russell x reader#lewis hamilton x reader#max verstappen x reader#f1#f1 imagine#f1 drabble#f1 fic
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Under the Opulence - Max Verstappen
⋗ Pairing - Max Verstappen x Reader
⋗ Summary - Your family isn't kind to you, and in fact, they all think Max would be a much better fit for your sister. Max likes to differ.
⋗ Word count - 3.4k words, hurt/comfort
⋗ Masterlist - This has been finished for some time, but I've only gotten around to given it a name Feedback and reblogs are appreciated
The grandeur of your family's foyer, adorned with polished marble and intricate chandeliers, set the stage for Max’s introduction to the world you came from. As you and Max entered, the echoes of your footsteps reverberated through the opulent space, the air charged with excitement and anxiety, but most noticeably on your side, dread.
Gabriella, your sister, emerged from an adjoining room, her presence demanding attention. With her radiant smile and effortless poise, she seemed to glide into the scene like a queen entering her court. She was the star of the family, the golden child who effortlessly commanded attention and adoration. With her striking looks and sharp intellect, she had always been the one to effortlessly charm anyone who crossed her path. Even your past romantic interests had succumbed to her allure, leaving you with the bitter taste of never good enough.
"It's okay, we're sisters," Gabriella would nonchalantly reassure you. "They weren't good enough for you if they wanted me more."
Her eyes, adorned with an air of confidence, locked onto Max, acknowledging his presence with a subtle yet unmistakable hint of curiosity. Bluntly scrutinising Max, she drank him up with her eyes, then she battered her long eyelashes a few times before slotting into the role of the perfect twin sister.
Max, a bit taken aback by the unexpected encounter, met Gabriella's gaze with a polite smile. That was all your sister needed before stepping forward, presenting her hand gracefully, a subtle gesture that belied the underlying power dynamics at play. Max, being the gentleman he was, reciprocated the greeting with a warm shake. However, as the customary exchange lingered for a moment longer than expected, you felt an unspoken tension building.
“Gabriella, but you – my dear – can call me Gabbie.” Her voice sang in the foyer, bouncing so wonderfully off the walls. You wanted nothing more than to leave. Their hands were still intertwined.
Instinctively, you began to withdraw your hand from his left, realising that you were caught in an awkward silence. Gabriella's grip on Max's hand tightened imperceptibly, and you hesitated for a split second, torn between asserting yourself and avoiding a confrontation. Finally, you reluctantly released Max's hand, a subtle concession that felt like surrender.
However, your parents made their grand entrance, drawn by the commotion in the foyer.
Gabriella finally let go of Max. She stepped back, allowing a brief respite from the charged exchange.
Your mother, an elegant woman with an air of sophistication, approached with a warm smile. "Oh, there you all are! We were starting to wonder when you'd make it to the heart of the festivities."
As she spoke, her eyes lingered on Gabriella and Max, a subtle but knowing gleam in her eyes. It was as if she sensed the unspoken currents beneath the surface. Your father, a more reserved figure, stood beside her, observing the scene with a discerning gaze.
"Mom, Dad, this is Max," you introduced, trying to steer the conversation away from the palpable tension that lingered.
With an air of practised nonchalance, Gabriella returned her attention to Max, a playful smile gracing her lips. "Well, Max, it's a pleasure to finally meet you. I've heard so much about you," she purred, her words leaving an ambiguous trail of intentions.
She tried to grasp his hand once again, but instead, he started helping you out of your coat to keep his hands busy.
Max, still wanting to leave a good impression, responded with a friendly smile. "Likewise, Gabriella. Your sister here has spoken highly of you too," he said, casting a glance in your direction, before he extended a polite hand toward your parents, exchanging pleasantries as he tried to steer the conversation towards the two newcomers in the foyer.
Gabriella subtly positioned herself beside him, a silent claim reaffirmed. The atmosphere remained charged, your parents seemingly ignorant of the intricate dynamics playing out before them. The dreadful feeling returned to you as your mom made eye contact with you once more. You averted your eyes.
Gabriella, seizing the opportunity, looped her arm through Max's, as if marking her territory. "Max, let me give you a tour of this magnificent place. There are so many things you haven't seen yet," she exclaimed, her tone holding a mixture of innocence and mischief.
Your heart sank as you watched them disappear into the lavish corridors of your family home.
“Let them go, honey. I’m sure he will be quite interested in our family’s history.” Your mother commented, foregoing the formality of any other type of recognition or greeting to you as she and your dad disappeared after Gabriella and Max.
Leaving you on your own in the opulent foyer, you wished to leave once more.
Determined to regain some semblance of composure, you wandered into the adjacent parlour, a room adorned with plush furniture and rich tapestries. The soft glow of antique lamps cast a warm ambience, but even the comforting setting couldn't dispel the growing unease. You settled into a chair, the plush upholstery offering little solace for the whirlwind of emotions swirling within. The room seemed to close in on you as you anxiously waited for Max and Gabriella to return. The dreadful feeling intensified with every passing moment, and your mind raced with unsettling thoughts.
Finally, the door swung open, and they entered the parlour. Gabriella's laughter echoed through the room. Max wore a polite smile, seemingly having enjoyed the tour, but you couldn't shake the feeling that Gabriella was orchestrating an elaborate performance.
"This place is quite… something," Max said, casting a glance in your direction as if seeking reassurance or acknowledgement. You tried to smile at him. Gabriella, however, continued to dominate the spotlight.
"We have quite the family history," she replied with a sly smile, her eyes flickering between Max and you. "It's a shame you won't be able to hear all the juicy details."
You forced another smile in response, but the unease gnawed at you. As they settled into the room, Gabriella strategically took the seat next to Max, her gestures and expressions aimed at enchanting him right before your eyes.
The conversation flowed effortlessly between them, a dance of words that excluded you from its rhythm. You felt like a mere observer in your own home, watching as Gabriella captivated Max with tales of the family's past, her laughter ringing like an enchanting melody.
Your attempts to engage in the conversation were met with fleeting glances as if your presence were an afterthought. Gabriella was ever so quick to recapture Max’s attention, despite your valiant efforts to seek a way into the discussion.
Desperate for a reprieve, you finally excused yourself under the pretence of attending to something in the kitchen. As you escaped the room, the weight of the evening bore down on you, and you couldn't shake the sinking feeling that this family gathering had become a stage for a performance in which you had no choice but to play a reluctant supporting role.
In the kitchen, you busied yourself with trivial tasks, the rhythmic clinking of dishes providing a brief respite from the orchestrated drama in the parlour. The tension that had followed you from the foyer to the parlour lingered like an unwelcome guest, and you desperately sought a moment of solitude to collect your thoughts.
As you absentmindedly stacked plates from the dishwasher, your mother entered the kitchen, her gaze lingering on you with a knowing expression. It was as if she could sense the turbulence beneath the composed facade you were desperately trying to maintain.
"Oh, dear, are you alright?" she inquired, her tone carrying a hint of concern.
You forced a smile, attempting to deflect the obvious discomfort. "I'm fine, just needed a moment away from the chatter in there."
Your mother's eyes softened, but there was a glint of curiosity. "Well, I must say, Gabriella and Max make quite the pair. They look so good together, don't you think?"
The question hung in the air, a subtle prod at the heart of the matter. You felt a knot tighten in your stomach as you processed the implications of your mother's words. It was a commentary that cut through the facade you were desperately trying to maintain.
"Oh, Mom, they're just chatting. It doesn't mean anything," you responded, attempting to downplay the situation.
Your mother, however, seemed undeterred. "I don't know, dear. They do seem to have a certain chemistry, don't you think? They'd make a handsome couple."
The weight of her words settled on you like an anvil, and you struggled to find a suitable response. The kitchen, for a brief moment, had been a sanctuary, but now felt like a confessional where you were forced to confront the complexities of your feelings.
"I...I don't know, Mom. It's just an introduction," you stammered, your attempts to maintain composure faltering.
Her gaze lingered on you for a moment, and then she sighed, a knowing smile playing on her lips. "You know, sometimes we find unexpected connections in the most peculiar places. And if they happen to find something special tonight, well, we should be happy for them, shouldn't we?"
You felt a surge of frustration and helplessness.
“It’s such a shame his looks just aren’t quite there, but he certainly has other features to make up for it. Wouldn’t you say so as well? Yes, a shame, but Gabriella has always been so kind-hearted. I’m sure she doesn’t mind either.” Your mother continued, before finally smiling at you.
Her message was loud and clear, as she had expressed her approval of Max as a suitable match for Gabriella.
Your mother wanted you to break up with Max and hand him over.
It was as though Max was a commodity to be exchanged, a possession for your sister to play with until she grew tired and moved on. It made you feel sick to the stomach.
“Dinner is all ready, your father just put down the roast on the table.”
You followed your mother into the dining room, the scent of the roast filling the air. The grand table, adorned with fine china and polished silverware, became the stage for the next act in this familial drama.
As you took your seat, Max seated next to you, your parents strategically positioned Gabriella opposite Max. The tension in the room was palpable, and you couldn't shake the feeling that every word and gesture would be scrutinised.
"So, Max," your mother began, her eyes flickering between Max and Gabriella, "how did you find our home? Quite exquisite, isn't it?"
Max, thankfully pr-trained, nodded appreciatively. "It's a stunning place with so much history."
Gabriella's eyes gleamed with satisfaction, and you braced yourself for what would come next. Your mother, however, wasn't finished.
"And speaking of history," she continued, casting a pointed look at Gabriella, "our family has quite a rich one. Gabriella, why don't you share some of the highlights? Max might find it fascinating."
“It’s alright, I think I heard enough earlier,” Max told your mom, “I would much rather hear childhood stories about her.” He turned his head, making himself able to look into your eyes, and you felt the dread spread. Despite the way he looked at you, it did nothing to calm you down, knowing your parents would not deliver what Max was expecting to be told about.
Max's genuine interest in hearing about your childhood seemed to momentarily disrupt the carefully choreographed performance. Your mother, however, skilfully manoeuvred to maintain the narrative she had meticulously constructed.
"Oh, Max, you're sweet," your mother said, offering a polite smile, "but Gabriella's achievements are the true highlights. She's always been the shining star of our family."
Your sister, seizing the opportunity, began to regale Max with tales of her academic triumphs, artistic pursuits, and social accomplishments. As she spoke, you felt the distance between you and Max widen, a chasm fuelled by your parents' insistence on casting Gabriella as the focal point of the conversation.
Max, sensing the discomfort, tried to redirect the conversation toward a more inclusive narrative. "I'm sure there are some other stories you could tell, perhaps some that aren’t about Gabriell-?"
“Please Max, do call me Gabby.” Gabriella interrupted Max.
Your mother exchanged a knowing glance with your father before responding, "Oh, there are plenty of stories, but I think Gabriella's achievements are what make our family truly special. Don't you agree, Max?"
Max hesitated for a moment, his frustration simmering beneath the surface. However, not wanting to create a scene, he nodded uncomfortably, "Yes, I guess Gabriella is quite accomplished."
Gabriella shot you a coy smile, her triumph was evident in the subtle control she exerted over the narrative. As the conversation continued to revolve around her, Max's attempts to steer it in a different direction seemed to hit an invisible wall.
Your parents, seemingly oblivious to Max's growing discomfort, continued to extol Gabriella's virtues. The room buzzed with the clinking of silverware and the murmur of praise, all while you sat there, a silent observer of your own family dinner.
As dessert was served, Max couldn't hide the subtle tenseness in his shoulders. He glanced at you, a mix of empathy and frustration in his eyes. Despite the challenging circumstances, you appreciated his efforts to bridge the gap.
When Max tried to ask about your childhood again, your mother skilfully redirected the conversation. "Oh, Max, we can talk about that another time. Let's focus on the present moment and enjoy the evening."
Your sister, seizing every opportunity to keep the spotlight, interjected, "You know, Max, I've always been curious about your interests and aspirations. Tell us more about yourself."
The shift in attention to Max was noticeable, but it wasn't the genuine interest he had hoped for. Instead, it felt like another tactic to steer the conversation away from you. Max, his patience waning, briefly shared short anecdotes about his work, nothing he hadn’t already told to the media. However, his eyes kept returning to you, his fingers intertwined with you. As though you were oblivious to the way your sister's feet – under the table – were trying to urge Max to look at her.
The night wore on, and Max's frustration continued to build, a silent storm brewing within him. The genuine smile he had worn upon arrival had now transformed into a tight-lipped expression, betraying his growing discontent.
Your dad had taken it upon himself to serve a glass of whiskey to him and Max, while your mother brought forth an array of finger foods and other light and savoury snacks. Your family settled around the nice fireplace in the big sitting room, it’s even more extravagant and opulent than the smaller parlour room you had tried to take refuge in earlier in the day.
When your sister, seemingly oblivious to the tension, leaned closer to Max, her voice dripping with false sweetness, "You know, Max, we're so thrilled to have you here. It's not often we get such distinguished company."
Max, no longer willing to play along, shifted uncomfortably on the beige couch. "Thank you for having me. It's been... quite an experience," he replied, his tone carrying a subtle edge.
Your father, still under the illusion that the evening had gone splendidly, raised his glass. "A toast! To family and new beginnings."
Max's frustration reached its peak as his eyes locked on your dad’s raised glass. Max abruptly stood up, the sound of him slamming his glass down echoing in the sudden silence. The tension in the room was palpable as he looked directly at your parents.
"I appreciate your hospitality, but I can't ignore the blatant disregard for your own daughter," he said, his voice measured but firm. "I came here hoping to learn more about her, but it seems the spotlight is reserved for someone else."
Gabriella's eyes widened in feigned innocence, a practised mask that Max wasn't buying. Your parents exchanged uneasy glances, finally sensing the budding cracks in their carefully constructed facade.
"I won't be a part of a charade that dismisses her existence," Max continued, his frustration now laid bare. "If you can't appreciate the amazing person she is, then I want no part in this. Goodnight."
Without waiting for a response, Max pulled you from the couch. As you both retreated from the sitting room, leaving behind the echoes of tension and shattered illusions, you felt a strange mixture of relief and sorrow.
Max led you through the ornate hallways of your family home, the grandeur of the surroundings now feeling suffocating. The air outside was cool and crisp as you stepped onto the front porch, the distant sounds of the night providing a stark contrast to the stifling atmosphere within.
He turned to you, his eyes reflecting a mix of frustration and concern. "I'm sorry, I didn't expect it to be like this."
You managed a small smile, appreciating his genuine intentions. "It's not your fault. Thank you for trying."
Max sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Your family... it's not what I expected."
You nodded, feeling a lump forming in your throat. "It's never been easy."
"Look, I don't know what's going on, but you deserve better than this," Max said, his voice filled with sincerity. "I'm here for you, no matter what."
As Max navigated the darkened streets, a palpable tension and heavy silence filled the car ride home between you and him. The glow of streetlights cast fleeting shadows across his determined expression, the lines of worry etched into his brow.
You sat beside him, lost in your thoughts, the events of the evening replaying in your mind like a broken record. The weight of the strained interactions with your family weighed heavily on your shoulders, a burden you couldn't shake.
Max glanced at you from the corner of his eye, his concern evident in the furrow of his brow. "Are you okay?" he asked softly, breaking the silence that had enveloped the car.
You sighed, your gaze fixed on the passing scenery outside the window. "I don't know, Max. Tonight was… a lot. I’m sorry for Gabriella."
“They shouldn’t have said any of that.” Max ignored your comment, “that’s not- even I know that’s now how you treat family.”
“I’m sorry for Gabriella.” You tried to tell him once again, instead finding his hand reaching out to tangle it into yours.
As Max's hand intertwined with yours, a comforting warmth spread through your fingertips, grounding you in the present moment. His touch was a lifeline, offering solace amidst the turmoil that had consumed your family gathering. You squeezed his hand gently, appreciating the silent support he offered.
Max pulled the car over, letting him turn to you and gaze into your eyes.
"I know you're sorry, love," Max whispered, his voice laced with understanding. "But you can't take responsibility for someone else's idiotic words. Gabriella's actions were uncalled for, and it's not your parents should have stopped it, not… Encouraged it."
His words resonated deep within you, reminding you that you were not solely accountable for the strained relationship with your parents. The weight on your shoulders began to lighten as if Max's presence alone could alleviate the burden.
You turned to him, finally meeting his concerned gaze. "Thank you, Max. Your support means the world to me."
He smiled softly, his eyes filled with tenderness. "I'll always be here for you, no matter what. We'll get through this together, alright?"
A surge of gratitude washed over you, grateful for the unwavering love and understanding Max consistently provided. You squeezed his hand once more, as he pulled out of the ditch.
The car continued to glide through the darkened streets, but the heavy silence had transformed into a comforting embrace of shared vulnerability.
As the glow of streetlights continued to cast fleeting shadows, you realised that it was in the darkest moments that the strength of your relationship with Max shone the brightest. And with his hand clasped firmly in yours, you knew that together, you could weather any storm or awful family dinner.
⋗ a/n - thank you for reading this, sorry that it took so long to post this one
#f1#f1 fic#f1 fanfic#f1 fanfiction#f1 x reader#f1 x you#max verstappen#mv1#max verstappen imagine#max verstappen x reader#max verstappen x you#max verstappen fic#max verstappen fluff#max verstappen fanfic#max verstappen blurb#f1 fluff#f1 blurb#f1 one shot#f1 x y/n#f1 drabble#f1 fandom#f1blr#f1 x female reader#max verstappen x female reader#f1 imagine#max verstappen x y/n#red bull racing#max verstappen one shot#max verstappen drabble#delias own writing
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DNF For Love
lando norris x reader
summary: you can’t believe your eyes, and lando can’t believe his ears
warnings: none, fluff, lando being lando
a/n: this is chaos and idk what i was doing with this 😭
Every now and then someone tagged you in a link on twitter and every so often your curiosity peaked and you indulged in whatever the fan had tagged you in. Most recently, you’d been loving the fan fiction links being sent your way, especially if they were written about your boyfriend Lando.
“Lan I cannot believe you right now.”
Now that tone of voice had Lando freezing from his spot in the bathroom, cleaning up his facial hair a little before he took off for Bahrain.
“Um…i’m sorry?”
“I just I can’t even look at you!”
Lando was quick to rinse his face off before walking over towards you and sitting in front of you. His eyes a little bit worried as he stared at you.
“What? I took the trash out, i cleaned up my facial hair out of the sink…there’s no socks on the floor!”
It was only a few seconds later that you sighed dramatically
“Well in this little story here apparently you dnf’d a race for the reader…you never do that for me!”
Lando looked at you like you grew four heads, his jaw dropping open as it clicked to him that once again you were reading fan fiction about him.
“Oh jesus christ-woman give me that!”
Finally letting yourself laugh you passed your phone to him and watched as his eyes scanned the writing, before he shook his head.
“Yeah because i’m giving up leading a race to dnf because my so called “girlfriend” is missing, mhm yeah because that makes sense”
“You wouldn’t even dnf for me?!”
Your laughter never ceased as he looked at you with almost a disgust, the idea not even fathomable for him, and even you knew it was so stupid.
“Baby, I love you, but I wouldn’t even dnf for my nan…and I love my nan a lot..”
You nodded shrugging as he passed your phone back, shutting it off you sat forward to kiss his forehead, easing the wrinkles that remained from his sheer distaste for what he just read.
“You heard it here folks, Lando Norris wouldn’t even dnf for love!”
“Okay that’s it”
There wasn’t much room to say anything because Lando had you pinned underneath him against the mattress as you laughed once again, a smirk on his face as he stared down at you.
“Here’s a deal, if i’m ever dead last in a shit car, i’ll dnf for you”
“So never?”
“Exactly”
Watching you carefully you shrugged
“I’ll take what I can get”
Happy with your response he leaned down to connect your lips together, the fanfic long gone out of your minds as you held one another tightly, Lando’s kisses always working to have you melt into a puddle. When you both pulled away you smiled admiring his face a little more than usual knowing you’d be without one another for a week until you went out to meet him at the first grand prix.
Lando’s new rule, no fan fiction at the track.
#rueswrites#ruesanswers#ruesanons<3#ruesasks#rueschats💗#lando norris x fem!reader#lando norris x you#lando norris x female reader#lando norris x y/n#lando norris x reader#lando norris blurb#lando norris fic#lando norris drabble#lando norris fanfic#lando norris au#formula 1 fanfiction#formula 1 fanfic#formula 1 masterlist#formula 1 blurb#f1 drabble#f1 x reader#f1 imagine#f1 fic#f1 fanfic
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❀ MAKE IT REAL | OP81
Scenario: basically ‘the winner takes all’, but oscar edition…or, the one where despite yn being the closest to oscar, no one suspects the two to be dating. that is, until a video of the pair at a valley concert comes out. (inspired by the song ‘Cure’ by Valley (bless @renarots for this one))
Pairing: oscar piastri x fem!reader
A/N: squadron, it is an oscar day. it took me entirely too long to get to this request, but i’ve finally made it. i hope you guys like this fic as much as i liked making it 🫶🏻
MASTERLIST
ynln on instagram
liked by landonorris, oscarpiastri, logansargeant, and 92,431 others
ynln happy halloween 🎃😚
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landonorris why is oscar standing like that
⤷ ynln he’s just a boy leave him alone
papayabull MY BABIES THEYRE SO CUTE
dreamyalbon this friendship is everything to me
⤷ formulaferrari not a single thing about yn and oscars relationship is giving “friends” but okay
⤷ dreamyalbon there’s no way they’re anything more than friends though 😭
rizzciardo the way yn’s whole feed is becoming oscar is so funny
formulaverstappen who’s gonna tell them that daphne and fred had a romantic relationship
⤷ ln4nation to be fair, it’s pretty common for friends to go as romantic duos, platonically.
ynln on instagram
liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris, maxfewtrell, riabish, logansargeant, and 142,211 others
ynln the best mornings ☀️ (also i made oscar the bracelet he’s wearing in the third slide i feel so proud of myself)
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oscarpiastri ❤️
riabish second slide 🥹
⤷ norrisnation ria and yn’s friendship is my favorite thing ever
dreamyalbon yn making oscar a bracelet is so cute </3
formulaferrari another day, another oscar post from yn. i love it here
landosbeachball THE ONLY BESTIES EVER 🫶🏻 the slide of them holding hands omg
f1wagsdaily on Instagram
13,621 likes
f1wagsdaily do you think yn ln is dating anyone on the grid? if so, who? 👀
(left to right) yn and lando, yn and daniel, yn and charles
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norrisnation im so convinced that if it’s anyone it’s danny ric 😭 how do you go to music festivals and football games together so often and NOT date
⤷ charlesrrari yes but also they don’t hang out NEARLY as much anymore? also to be fair, yn’s closest friend - oscar aside - is lando, so it’s kind of natural that she would be in the mclaren garage more, so it just SEEMS like it’s daniel? idk im not convinced that it’s him
formula44 idk i feel like lando is the only one that makes sense
⤷ papayabull what about oscar?
⤷ formula44 idk i just can’t see them together
xf1x oscar piastri (solely based on how much they’re togwther)
⤷ papayanorris lore drop: yn rejected oscar in f3 because he was too busy so id imagine it’s the same now 🤷🏻♀️
⤷ xf1x to me that makes it seem more likely since that means they were obviously interested in each other?
⤷ papayanorris good point but maybe theyve moved on? 👀
⤷ pastrypiastri okay but imagine dating oscar and he’s THAT close with another girl, and same with yn being that close with another guy? idk this thread might have put me on the ynoscar agenda 🤭
shumirrari wild guess: jenson button (if you know you know)
⤷ chilisainz what am i missing?
⤷ shumirrari basically lando and jenson button are sort of friends so lando introduced yn to jenson at a race, and lando took pictures of them together. i’m pretty sure yn posted them a while back? idk but it was just a silly guess (her and jenson would be cute though, but i highly doubt it’s them LMAO)
formulaferrari i am TIRED why does no one have faith in the oscyn agenda
⤷ formulaferrari also does no one notice that oscar always is kind of shy around yn or am i actually delusional on this one
⤷ charlesrrari wait lowkey you’re onto something rn 👀
grandprixsandgossip on Instagram
liked by ynln and 24,532 others
grandprixsandgossip Oscar Piastri and Yn Ln, a known friend of many drivers on the grid, seen kissing outside of a concert arena last night.
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norrisnation girl there’s three pixels on my screen that could be anyone
papayabull oscar jack piastri what are you DOING
piastrisgirl never, and i mean NEVER, did i expect that out of all the f1 drivers, oscar would be the one where we find out about his girlfriend like this
ln4world this cannot be real
formulaferrari SCREAMING IM INSANE THIS IS EVERHTINH TO ME
stardustf1 okay but wasn’t oscar wearing a hoodie in the other picture that the one guy posted?
⤷ rizzciardo yes, but i’m assuming oscar took the hoodie off and gave it to yn, because not only can you see her wearing a hoodie in this picture (even though it’s blurry, it looks like the same one oscar was wearing), AND ria posted a story of her and yn goofing off after the concert where yn was wearing a black hoodie so 👀
chilisainz were not gonna mention yn in the likes?
⤷ norrisnation she’s having her pierre moment 🤷🏻♀️
ynln on Instagram
🎶 Cure - Valley
liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris, alex_albon, danielricciardo, and 124,521 others
ynln concerts are my heaven, but they’re paradise when i’m with him 🫶🏻 @/oscarpiastri is my concert buddy for life whether he wants it or not
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landonorris but are you dating or?
⤷ ynln i’m gonna need you to be so fr rn lando
oscarpiastri fortunately for us, i’m more than happy to be your concert buddy. ❤️
⤷ ynln music to my ears 😚
riabish literally the cutest couple i know *liked by ynln*
princepiastri THE CAPTION, OSCARS COMMENT, THE PICTURES?? THIS IS THE WORST DAY OF MY LIFE
formula44 yn im sorry for not believing in you and oscar
dreamyalbon AND WHOS GOING TO MENTION THE SONG??
⤷ yukit22enthusiast AS A VALLEY LOVER I AM RIGJT THERE WITH YOU
formulaferrari THE FACT THAT THESE SRE ALL DIFFERENT CONCERTS OH MYGOD
formulaferrari i can finally call them my parents and not get flamed
papayabull and so whatever you do don’t listen to the song because i’m so upset
⤷ stardustf1 someone harassed(/j) the guy who took the picture of them at the concert into telling them what song was playing when he took that picture and it was cure 🫠💔
⤷ papayabull NOOOOO it’s officially their song, i don’t make the rules
TAGLIST
@renarots @jsjcue @treehouse-mouse @lovstappen @illicitverstappen @vellicora @lokietro @arkhammaid @piasstrisblog @leclercvsx @i-love-ptv @pretty-little-bunny382728 @kortneej81 @elliegrey2803 @marshmummy @spidersophie @stopeatread @minkyungseokie @jellyfish123guts @harrysdimple05 @fastcarsandshit @motorsp0rt @sadieurlady @cixrosie @hiireadstuff
Thank you for reading! All feedback is appreciated 💞
#✩ . op⁸¹ files 🏎️#oscar piastri x reader#oscar piastri smau#formula one smau#formula one#f1 x reader#f1 imagine#f1 drabble#f1 fanfic#f1 x you#formula one fanfiction#f1 fic#f1 smau#f1 x female reader#formula one social media au#formula one x y/n#formula one x you#formula one blurbs#formula one x reader#formula one fluff#formula one fic#oscar piastri x you#oscar piastri#op81 x reader#op81 imagine
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adrenaline, baby.
ln x wife!reader
ahahaha i couldn’t help myself. wrote this at godspeed (20 mins) and i’m not even sorry. not my finest work but i could not care less this is peak brainrot (waving at you @lavenderlando). feral is the only word on my mind at this time. gg lando.
warnings: listen it’s porn with minimal plot. minors dni i am so serious!! 18+, smut, fluff, breeding kink, implied overstimulation, mentions of pregnancy, marriage, it’s just unhinged idk
your back couldn’t have hit the bed soon enough, touch starved bodies moulding into the cloud-like mattress. you’d waited all weekend to get him on top of you, and now that the stress of the race weekend had melted away, you’d been able to put the do not disturb sign to good use.
lando’s adrenaline rush had sent him feral.
he hadn’t stopped touching you since he’d been able to, practically dragging you through the mexican paddock, into the car, through the door of your hotel suite. he’d attended to his race duties and now lando had a wife to attend to.
six months of married bliss meant one thing: a lot of sex in a lot of places. you didn’t know how to keep you hands off of one another, proud of yourselves for making it behind closed doors this time. it meant you could take your time, that he could take you apart just how he liked to, and that’s what he did.
“c’mon, baby. need you nice and ready for me.” lando muttered into your neck, punctuating his words with a kiss below your ear. he had two fingers working in and out of you, curling deliciously against your walls. “did all of those overtakes, and then i did them again. now, m’gonna make you come for me again and again.”
he was a man, possessed.
a strangled cry tore from the back of your throat, zero regard for the neighbouring rooms as you fell apart, spasming into the white bed linen. lando didn’t stop, fucking you through the waves of pleasure until tears pricked your eyes and you were squirming away from him.
there wasn’t a second to recover, his curls tickling your thighs as he slotted between your legs, tongue lapping up the mess he’d just made. your ears were ringing, eyes squeezed shut, thrashing hard before your body dissolved completely under his touch. you couldn’t figure out where the pleasure started and where it ended, all you knew was that your second orgasm was approaching faster than lando has made up all those race positions.
“oh my god.” you repeated over and over like a prayer, blindly tipping over the edge, his tongue stroking your clit while his fingers coaxed you to your second release.
“i’m not done with you, baby. gonna fill you up again, just like you keep asking me to.” lando groaned, scaling up your body. you shuddered at his words, your body set on fire. it was a sort of given, at this point, that you were trying. or, to put it more accurately, not not trying. it did something to you, the idea of him letting loose, not a single barrier between your intertwined bodies, and he loved it as much as you did.
a litter of soothing kisses were placed up your throat, before he reached your lips, his own slotting over yours. it was messy, passionate, quiet whimpers being traded between you as he found his rightful place between your parted thighs. your legs were hooked over his hips, pulling him in, the tip of his cock painting over your folds. and then he was inside of you, slick bodies at one, and a switch in him flipped.
lando went deep, rocking into you like it was the last time. it definitely wouldn’t be. he could have left an imprint of your body in the mattress, holding you down as he ruined you. it was desperate, new urges unlocked in him since you’d started this new venture in the bedroom, no limits. you couldn’t keep up with him, letting him do all the work, just how he liked it. and you fucking loved it.
all you could do was clamp down on him, a beautiful mess at his mercy, his name chanted into the room. everything was hazy, nothing, there was only him and you. you arched into him, clawing at the bronzed, glowing skin of his lean back, eyes rolling in your skull at the way his muscles felt as they tensed under your touch.
“one more for me, baby, one more for now and i’ll give you what you want. gonna make me a daddy?” lando’s breath fanned your face as he spoke, watching with a smirk at the way you absolutely lost it.
you were sobbing when you came, the aftershocks continued by the way you felt him reach his own release. white heat pricked your skin and you collapsed even further into the bed, wrecked beneath him. you were grinning lazily, panting hard, eyes shut from the exhaustion. lando kissed away the tear tracks, residing inside you as you both came down from the high.
the air changed drastically, softer, intimate. he found your lips again, gentle this time, affectionate pecks reviving you.
“you okay, my love?” lando whispered. you breathed a laugh.
“you’re too good to me.” your voice was raspy, your vocal chords shot from a weekend of screaming his name in every possible context. “proud of you, honey.”
lando hummed softly, grateful for your praise. he scanned your face, an angelic glow gracing your features. his beautiful wife.
“gonna get you cleaned up.” he went to roll off of you, but your legs tightened around his waist.
“not yet. wanna stay like this for a minute.” your voice was laced with sleep, and lando couldn’t help but smile.
“this might have been the time, y’know.” lando’s words came out excitedly, unable to contain his delight at the idea of having a family. your family.
“and even if it wasn’t, i don’t mind the free practice.” you teased, but the giddy feeling in the pit of your stomach told you something, and so did the test you took four weeks later.
-
idk what came over me idk what happened lol. bye.
#lando norris#lando norris smut#lando norris fic#lando norris fluff#lando norris x you#lando norris x reader#lando norris blurb#lando norris imagine#lando norris drabble#f1 fic#f1 smut#f1 x reader#f1 driver x reader#f1 driver x you#f1 fics#f1 blurb#f1 drabble#f1 blurbs#writing things
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silly season - lando norris
pairing: lando norris x girlfriend!reader
warnings: innuendos
summary: fans get a glimpse into your relationship on a stream
You walk into Lando’s gaming room, a cup of hot chocolate topped with tiny marshmallows in hand. His back is to you, headphones clamped over his head, eyes focused on the screen. Lando is always in his element when he's streaming — it’s a joy to see. But today, you’ve been the one tasked with interrupting him. Not that you mind, of course.
“Got your hot chocolate, sweetheart,” you startle him, setting the cup down beside him on the desk. You look at the screen, recognizing the familiar game of F1 2023. “Who’s winning?”
“Verstappen. But it’s just a virtual race,” Lando chuckles without taking his eyes off the screen.
“Ah, so you admit you’re losing?” You tease, earning a playful glare. You laugh at his mock annoyance, then start to saunter out of the room.
Before you can make your exit, however, Lando grabs your wrist, pulling you back. “Wait, I need you.”
You spin around, your eyebrows raised in surprise. His words hang in the air, and for a moment, a suggestive smirk plays on your lips. “Really, Lando? On a live stream?”
His cheeks flush as he quickly shakes his head, his laughter joining yours. “Not like that, you minx! I need you to stay here and distract the competition with your terrible driving.”
“Ah, so that's how it is,” you retort, grinning at his playful sidestep. “I’m your secret weapon now, am I?”
With a chuckle, he grabs the spare controller, throwing it to you. “Only the best for Team Norris.”
“Well then, prepare to lose!”
What you don’t realize is that Lando’s stream is live, and all his fans are eagerly watching the banter unfold.
Lando chuckles, setting up the second controller. “Oh, we’ll see about that.”
The race starts and immediately, it’s a comedy of errors. You’re not very good at the game to say the least and you crash into a wall within the first thirty seconds.
“Hmm, you do know the point is to avoid the walls, right?” Lando teases, his fingers moving deftly over the buttons of his controller.
You shoot him a feigned glare, and he laughs, his attention fixed on the screen as he smoothly overtakes one of the opposing cars. “Maybe you should stick to delivering hot chocolate, love.”
“No way,” you say stubbornly. “I’m going to beat you at your own game, Norris.”
“Ah, spoken like a true underdog!” He laughs, and the sound of it makes you grin, even as your car crashes into another wall.
Meanwhile, on the other side of the screen, Lando’s fans are loving every moment. Their favorite F1 driver showing his fun side, coupled with your charming wit, is an unbeatable combination.
The chat box fills with amused comments:
‘OMG, she’s hilarious!’
‘Lando, you’re losing your touch!’
‘Can we have her on every stream?’
Laughing and teasing each other, you keep trying to maneuver your car with minimal success. You playfully jab at Lando’s concentration, saying, “Hey, aren’t you supposed to be good at this?”
“I am good!” he protests, “Just not when you’re trying to distract me.”
“Oh, am I a distraction, Norris?” you ask, raising your eyebrows suggestively. “Is it because I make your gear stick shift?” The playful innuendo makes Lando choke on his laugh.
“A very attractive distraction, yes,” he responds, and it’s your turn to blush.
The comments explode:
‘Did he just—‘
‘They are too cute!’
‘I can’t even.’
Eventually, Lando wins the game, but not without a few crashes of his own. As you watch the virtual champagne spraying over his character, you say, “Well, you won. But I’d like to see you do this in real life.”
Without missing a beat, Lando responds, “What, win a race or put up with you?”
“You better keep it clean on the track, Norris,” you retort, giving him a sly wink. “Because the way you’re driving here, you won’t be able to handle the curves!”
You gasp dramatically when he laughs at your comment. “Lando Norris! I’ll have you know I’m a delight to put up with.”
He laughs, pulling you into a hug. “Yes, you are. You’re my favorite distraction.”
With that, Lando ends the stream, laughing at the barrage of comments from his fans. You sit there with him, sharing in his laughter, completely oblivious to the fact that you were just part of an international live stream.
But you don’t care. All that matters to you in that moment is Lando’s laughter, the warmth of his arm around you, and the joy of sharing these simple, perfect moments with him. And if his fans loved it too, well, that was just an added bonus.
#f1 imagine#lando norris imagine#f1 x reader#lando norris x reader#f1 x you#lando norris x you#f1#lando norris#ln4#f1 fic#lando norris fic#f1 fluff#lando norris fluff#f1 fanfic#lando norris fanfic#f1 blurb#lando norris blurb#f1 fanfiction#f1 one shot#f1 drabble#mclaren#f1 fandom#formula 1#f1blr
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snowballs - cl16
pairing: charles leclerc x nanny!reader (fem)
summary: in which you bake cookies with charles and his daughter but still end up on your knees
warnings: some cute fluff?, 18+, slight smut, oral (m-receiving), bad french (please correct me!!! i don't speak french), not proofread
word count: 1,342
author's note: merry christmas eve (ya filthy animals) lmaooo. also loling at the title. leaving this here for y'all. single dad Charles has me in a complete chokehold. this is not a part 2, just a little Christmas themed drabble if you wanna call it that. if you didn’t read THIS yet, then go do it.
french edits made by @dannyramirezwife !!! (my angel)
✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦
THE AIR WAS filled with the sweet scent of pine and cinnamon, instantly putting you in a festive mood as soon as you arrived today. Soft, twinkling lights adorn the walls and windows, casting a warm and inviting glow throughout the space. Throughout the apartment, the sound of classic Christmas tunes plays softly in the background.
The kitchen, where all three of you stood, was pure chaos. Bowls varying sizes are strewn across the countertops, each bearing the remnants of different stages of the baking process. A mixing bowl, its sides smeared with sticky remnants of cookie dough, sits next to a flour-dusted measuring cup. Multiple trays of already baked cookies, sat cooling atop the stove. It truly was a mess.
“Papa! Vous ne pouvez pas manger ça!” You can’t eat those! She exclaimed in fits of laughter. Her face was absolutely covered in ingredients. No doubt from sneaking licks of cookie dough and frosting when she thought that nobody was looking. Flour coated her hands and arms, and some had found its way to her rosy cheeks.
“Ils sont pour le Père Noël!” They’re for Santa! You agreed with her. Swatting him with one of the Christmas themed hand towels that was nearby, before returning to decorating the cookies that lay in front of you.
Charles emitted a resounding gasp, skillfully weaving of feigned anguish. His reaction unfolded with a theatrical flair; a symphony of emotion portrayed through a dramatic hand gesture that traversed the journey of his fist to his chest. It mimicked the palpable sensation of being struck, an artful display of simulated injury. “Un autre homme reçoit tout cela?” Another man gets all of these?
With an indulgent smile, you playfully orchestrate a slow, deliberate roll of your eyes in response to his theatrics. Unfazed by the charming display, you redirect your attention solely to the task at hand – meticulously adorning the remaining cookies with festive embellishments. The ambiance in the room becomes a delightful blend of shared amusement as you all work hard finishing them all.
Charles soon excused himself to his bedroom to gather a call regarding some car testing that happened earlier this week.
As you were on the verge of releasing a hearty sigh, ready to vocalize your exhaustion, your attention diverted to the drowsy four-year-old near you. Her delicate features were gently pressed against the countertop, closed in the embrace of slumber. A wave of endearment washed over you. Suppressing a giggle, you marveled at the sheer adorableness of the scene, momentarily setting aside your fatigue to savor the precious sight before you.
Tenderly, you gathered her into your arms, cradling her like a precious bundle. With each careful step echoed through the familiar path leading to her room, where the soft glow of ambient light revealed the traces of a day well spent.
Arriving at her bed, you marveled at the cherubic expression on her face. Softly, you attempted to wipe away the remnants of flour that adorned her tiny arms and face, a silent acknowledgment of the shared joy in the day’s baking escapade. Deciding that it was best to let her sleep than to wake her to bathe her now. The sheets could always be washed later. In that quiet moment, you sat on the floor beside her bed, just smiling at her. The room became a sanctuary, where the gentle act of care echoed the love woven into the fabric of the night.
Unbeknownst to you, Charles stood silently in the doorway, quietly observing the intimate scene before him. A swell of emotion gripped his heart as he beheld the tender scene – there you were, alongside his daughter, the warmth of familial connection radiating from your shared moments. In that unspoken exchange, a poignant desire filled his heart, longing for the sense of family that seemed to effortlessly bloom in your presence. His heart was full of want for you.
“Sugar crash?” His voice, soft and unexpected, caught you off guard, prompting an instinctive flinch. As you turned your head, you found Charles slowly approaching, his tall figure standing gracefully behind where you were seated. His captivating green eyes remained fixed on you, their beauty holding a silent intensity, never once wavering from your presence.
“Oui,” you softly smiled. “Je devrais aller nettoyer,” I should go clean up. You stood to your feet as Charles pressed a soft kiss to his sleeping girl and brushed her hair out of her face.
Back in the kitchen, it truly looked like a tornado had hit the room. Standing amidst the culinary chaos, you contemplated where to even begin when, suddenly, a pair of hands playfully seized your waist, diverting your attention.
“Tu me rends fou,” You drive me crazy.
His lips pressed softly into the swell of your neck, his tongue pressing against your cookie batter covered skin. “Tellement doux,” So sweet.
Your stomach clenched with butterflies as he spun you around, holding you close to him. Slowly, he brings his index finger to the corner of your mouth, wiping a speck of dough off you and bringing it to your lips.
He doesn’t even need to tell you before your opening your mouth, wrapping your tongue around his finger to lick it off. You stare up at him in the process, witnessing the color of his eyes darken as you release his finger with a ‘pop’.
“Je te rends toujours folle?” Still drive you crazy?
You observed the Adam’s apple in his neck bobbing with a pronounced gulp. The veins in his neck stood out prominently, evidence of his teeth being clenched.
You slowly made your way to your knees, trailing your hands down his body, feeling his taut muscles through the confines of his sweatpants. You skillfully looped your fingers into his waistband, pulling them down to free his hard length. Not too far away, was some spare cookie dough on the island of the kitchen. To which, you reached one arm up and grabbed, spreading some of it onto him, a smirk graced your lips as you heard him groan.
“Mon dieu,” My God. He physically had to lean forward, hunching over you, in order to grip the kitchen counter top as soon as your tongue met him.
You moaned at the taste of him and the cookie dough.
He half-chuckled as his hips bucked further into your mouth, chasing after his pleasure. He inhaled sharply, trying to relax, but you were eager and adamant on getting him there. You were so so so eager to please him.
Your hand gripped him, collecting the spit on your fingers, spreading it all over his hot skin, while you suckled gently at his sensitive tip.
“Mmm, fuck,” He couldn’t get full words out as you sunk him deeper into your mouth, his tip scraping the walls of your throat. The burning in his stomach was rising as he watched you eagerly take every inch of him. You moaned at the taste of him, the vibrations pushing him even closer to the edge.
His face was completely flushed now as you bobbed up and down, essentially choking on him. Keeping your voice down, you pulled off of him again.
“Je te veux partout sur ma langue,” Want you all over my tongue. Your whimpery tone sent him over the edge almost instantly.
“Fuck, fuck,” he repeated. The muscles of his arms bulging as he gripped the edge of the countertop tightly. Your eyes were wet with tears, but you were satisfied as he filled your mouth. Your tongue ran over the tip once more, licking up every drop, before he took a step back from you.
You grinned lazily at him as you stood to your feet. His chest was rising and down deeply as he tried to catch his breath.
“Complètement fou,” Fucking crazy. He murmurs, pulling you in for a sweet kiss.
“Il est temps de nettoyer!” Time to clean! You clap your hands together, devious to escape his touch.
But you both know, that he won’t let you off the hook that easily.
#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc imagine#charles leclerc smut#charles leclerc#f1 x reader#f1 imagines#f1 imagine#charles leclerc angst#charles leclerc fic#charles leclerc fanfic#don’t wake the kids cl16#drabble#f1 drabble
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PowerPointless
Part I
Formula 1 x Russell!Reader
Summary: you decide to throw your brother a birthday party based on the thing he loves most in the world: PowerPoint
Note: a huge thank you to @struggling-with-drivers because this would not have been possible without her help
#1 - Max Verstappen
#2 - Logan Sargeant
#3 - Daniel Ricciardo
#4 - Lando Norris
#10 - Pierre Gasly
#11 - Sergio Perez
#14 - Fernando Alonso
#f1 imagine#f1#f1 fic#f1 fanfic#f1 fanfiction#f1 x reader#f1 x you#max verstappen x reader#logan sargeant x reader#daniel ricciardo x reader#lando norris x reader#pierre gasly x reader#sergio perez x reader#fernando alonso x reader#f1 fluff#f1 blurb#f1 one shot#f1 x y/n#f1 drabble#f1 fandom#f1blr#max verstappen imagine#logan sargeant imagine#daniel ricciardo imagine#lando norris imagine#pierre gasly imagine#fernando alonso imagine#f1 x female reader#george russell imagine
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F1 Master List
——⭑⋆⋆⋆⭑——
Hi everyone! I am Elia and welcome to my page. I am very excited to have you here :)
Here are my current pieces:
Max Verstappen
Sad, Beautiful, Tragic [1], [2]
Diamond of the First Water
Social Media AU [Max is dating a Diplomat]
Carlos Sainz Jr
Illicit Affairs
Social Media AU [Carlos is dating a Ballerina]
Charles Leclerc
Loss of My Life
And more to come!
જ⁀➴ I am also accepting requests so feel free to send one❤️
#formula 1#formula 1 x reader#formula 1 x you#formula 1 x y/n#formula 1 x female reader#f1 blurb#f1 fandom#f1#f1 drabble#f1 x you#f1 x reader#f1 imagine#f1 fic#f1 fanfic#max verstappen#max verstappen x you#max verstappen imagine#max verstappen x reader#carlos sainz x female reader#carlos sainz jr#carlos sainz jr x you#carlos sainz x y/n#carlos sainz x you#carlos sainz jr imagine#carlos sainz x reader
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y'all hear me out.... what if max was pouting and whining to charles about how much baby pup leo was taking charles time and charles just coos at max and run his hand through his hair saying "you're my favorite baby of all" and softly rubbing max's cheeks. max's blush runs from his face down his neck. And charles just giggles. max couldn't stand it and he manhandled charles with charles back to the wall and caged him. their face is so close, breath lingering between. max sweeps in woth a kiss so deep and passionate charles feels faint.
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f1 | i'd be the man
summary: [ drabbles ] you're the formula one driver and he's your wag. (aka the toto wolff-ification of the fast car boys)
warnings: mentions of racism and sexism
author's note: i had so much fun coming up with non-f1 jobs 😂 i'm convinced that most of the boys would still be obsessed with f1. considering doing this for other drivers, drop some suggestions? 👀
→ CHARLES LECLERC
Charles is a fashion designer who works for one of your sponsors. You find his designs slightly... peculiar and aren't afraid to tell him. Determined to prove you wrong about his vision, Charles volunteers to be your primary point of contact for your partnership with the fashion house.
Your meetings are contentious in the beginning, neither of you understanding the other. You leave each consultation with a throbbing migraine and a barely suppressed urge to throw something at Charles. If only he weren't so damned stubborn. (At the same time, you know that his passion for his craft is half of why you even deign to meet with him.)
A grudging respect forms between you after months of friction and endless banter about what exactly you want your sponsorship to look like. If hard-pressed, you might even call it a friendship.
Charles has been a Formula 1 fan since childhood and is secretly a fan of yours. You find out after you meet him for a design meeting after a rough race and he suddenly goes on a rant about how the driver who took you out was being ridiculous and how you deserved better. You're completely charmed and interrupt him by asking him out on a date.
He's the absolute best boyfriend that you could ever ask for, following you to all the European races and supporting you from Monaco when he can't make it. Charles delights in being able to provide a bit of stability for you in your hectic life. He puts up photos of your race wins in his studio and proudly tells all of his clients about his girlfriend and her achievements.
(You still won't listen to his fashion advice, though.)
→ MAX VERSTAPPEN
Max runs the cat shelter that you adopt your cat from. You notice how cute he is the first time you meet him but you're too shy to make a move — besides, Max cherishes his quiet life and you don't know how open he would be to associating with a public figure like a Formula 1 driver. Still, he's funny and kind and you somehow keep talking.
It starts out innocuously, just pictures and updates about your new cat (because Max cares about all of the cats that he's ever taken care of, even the ones that have been adopted into good homes) and occasional behind-the-scenes updates when you find out that Max likes Formula 1.
Without realizing it, Max becomes one of your closest friends. He catsits for you when you're out of the country for races, picks you up from the airport after international races, and cheerfully beats you at sim racing whenever you have the opportunity to game together.
Max realizes that you're basically dating around a year into your friendship. You sleep at his place, in his bed, more often than not. Sassy likes you more than she likes him. You have his coffee order memorized and he knows your parents. (Your mother adores him and constantly encourages you to make a move.)
He's patient, however, and waits for you to realize your own feelings as well. Dating comes as naturally for you as your friendship did. Although Max doesn't always enjoy the media scrutiny that comes with dating a Formula 1 driver, he takes full advantage of the attention to defend you at any given chance.
In fact, you've been asked multiple times by your team principal to get your boyfriend to calm down before he offends another driver, but you wouldn't change Max for the world.
→ LANDO NORRIS
Lando is a Twitch streamer with a decent following who specializes in gaming, especially e-motorsports. He gets the chance to visit your team's garage when he wins a e-sport tournament. He's an unabashed simp fan and immediately makes a fool of himself when he meets you, but you find it adorable.
(Lando swears up and down to anyone who'll listen that he didn't mean to blush and accidentally propose on the spot.)
You cheekily tell him to take you out on a date first and he surprisingly gets his act together and actually follows through. Lando is incredibly kind and clumsily charming despite his awkward exterior. You can tell that he genuinely likes spending time with you and wants to hear what you have to say.
Lando switches to Youtube and vlogging when your relationship stabilizes so he can spend more time with you. His fans — and yours — love catching glimpses of his elusive Formula 1 driver girlfriend in his videos. It's a running joke among his fans that Lando is your sugar baby, which Lando finds extremely funny and shamelessly accepts.
Eventually, both of you realize that you've found the love of your life and you start thinking about marriage. You propose to each other at the same time, on the vacation that you each planned for the other, while your mutual friends who knew about both sides die of laughter from the sidelines.
Lando insists on taking your name as well and declares that he's now officially your trophy husband.
("Get it? You get trophies from your job, which brought us together, so technically I'm a trophy now too?" "Yes, Lando, I understand double entendres perfectly well." "Ooooh French, fancy!")
→ LEWIS HAMILTON
You meet Lewis in your childhood. He karts at the same track as you and you bond over the shared experience of being "other" from the other drivers. No one ever bets on either of you to be fast, to win, so you bet on each other. Lewis supports you with his entire being, even when he chooses to leave racing to chase other dreams. You dreamed of reaching Formula 1 together but Lewis, in this world, is happy cheering from the paddock.
Everyone around you is convinced that you're dating Lewis, who has become a highly successful model and philanthropist. Who else would would take time out of their insanely busy life to follow you around the world? The closeness between you doesn't help either — Lewis acts like your partner more often than not.
Despite appearances, however, Lewis is just your best friend, and it stays that way until a PR disaster with your respective relationships calls for extensive damage control. The best distraction that your media teams can come up with is that you fake-date each other: what better to appease the masses with than the ever-beloved tale of childhood friends to lovers?
The fake relationship changes something in your previously stable friendship. Suddenly, you can't stop seeing Lewis in a different light and you find yourself wishing that the romance was real. You're terrified of losing one of the most important people in your life, so you keep quiet about your true feelings for months as things calm down.
Eventually, your manager gives the all-clear to end the ruse and you end up scrambling for a reason to maintain it. By that time, Lewis has caught on to you. He stops by one night with a bottle of wine and your favorite movie. As the credits play, he leans over and kisses you softly — the first time he's kissed you out of the eye of the public.
You're lost for words and he quietly assures you that no matter what happens if you pursue a real relationship, he'll always be your Lewis.
Ten years later, happily married with a couple of championships under your belt, you couldn't be happier that you had chosen to say "hi" to the boy at the karting track.
likes and reblogs are appreciated!
masterlist | taglist: @scenesofobx @vellicora @boiohboii
#solwriting#f1 x reader#formula 1 x reader#formula one x reader#formula 1#f1#f1 fanfic#formula 1 fanfic#formula 1 x you#f1 imagine#f1 drabble#charles leclerc#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc x you#charles leclerc imagine#charles leclerc fanfic#max verstappen#max verstappen x reader#max verstappen x you#max verstappen imagine#max verstappen fanfic#lando norris#lando norris x reader#lando norris x you#lando norris imagine#lando norris fanfic#lewis hamilton#lewis hamilton x reader#lewis hamilton x you#lewis hamilton imagine
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truly madly deeply
cw: fluff, very slight angst, comfort (reader comforting lando), you and lando are fucking in love:'(((
now playing: truly madly deeply by 1d
notes: i love requests inspired by songs pls request more of it🥺 wrote this in 30 minutes at 3am so its a bit short sry:(
requested by anon
______________________________________________
these past few weeks have been incredibly tough on lando, both mentally and physically. you've undoubtedly noticed and have been doing your best to support him while giving him the space he needs. lando may struggle to express his feelings in words, but he's been showing his gratitude in other ways – with small gestures and plenty of physical affection. you've been following his f1 journey closely, never missing a grand prix, and making sure you're by his side through it all. lando has never felt more loved and supported. his favorite moments are those when he can finally rest and spend time with you after a grueling race.
qualifying is tomorrow, and lando seems even more nervous than usual. you know him inside out, recognizing his little habits when he's stressed; without him saying a word, you understand the thoughts racing through his mind. the night has fallen, heightening lando's anxiety as the race draws near. he's been more affectionate than usual today, seeking comfort in your hugs and asking for extra kisses. while you love this closeness, it also concerns you. you're well aware of how hard lando can be on himself, and the thought of what he might be going through tugs at your heart.
you join him on the bed, facing him, the stars casting a soft glow on his tired face, making his eyes sparkle even more when they meet yours. "hey, pretty boy," you whisper gently, your hand tenderly cupping his cheek and stroking it. butterflies flutter in his stomach, and his body relaxes a bit. "hey, love" he whispers back, planting a sweet kiss on the palm of your hand, eliciting a smile from you.
"how are you feeling?" you ask softly, your fingers gently playing with his curls – something you know he adores. with a sigh, lando closes his eyes for a moment before locking onto yours again. he finds immense comfort in your gaze, with the rest of the world fading away each time he gets lost in your eyes.
"i don't know... i'm not feeling great about tomorrow," he admits with a hint of worry in his voice. your heart aches just hearing his concerns. you move closer, your gaze softening, and lando's heartbeat quickens. how can you have such a profound effect on him with just your eyes? it drives him crazy.
"why, baby? you don't have to worry. you're lando norris, after all!" you playfully roll your eyes, and a smile tugs at lando's lips. he takes your hand and interlaces his fingers with yours, and you reciprocate with a warm smile.
"no, but seriously, what's bothering you?" you softly toy with his fingers while giving him your full attention.
"i mean, it's more of a mclaren problem than a 'me' problem," he hesitates for a moment, and you gently caress the back of his hand, encouraging him to open up.
"i don't think i belong there anymore. i don't think i can show my true potential with them." his voice is calmer now, and a sense of relief is evident.
you hum softly, and he finds the courage to continue, still focused on your hands playing together. "should i quit? but what if no one else wants me?" panic creeps into his voice, and you immediately grip his hand firmly, bringing your free hand to his cheek.
"hey, you're one of the best drivers out there. there'll always be a team that wants you. believe me, there'll always be a place for you in f1. you've worked so hard to get here, and you truly deserve it," you reassure lando. he gets lost in your eyes, feeling the depth of your love and honesty. his heart feels like it could burst at any moment.
"but i want to be the best," he pouts, and you chuckle softly, giving him a quick peck on the lips, making him smile. "you're already the best for me," you say with a gentle smile, causing lando's heart and cheeks to warm. he groans playfully, slightly embarrassed by his blushing cheeks, and your smile widens. "you're so cute; i don't think my heart can take it," you playfully whimper, cupping his face and squeezing his cheeks. lando bites his lip to suppress a smile, and the sparks in his eyes intensify. you place multiple kisses on his lips, and lando can't help but chuckle. he puts his hands on yours to pause the kisses and says, "just give me a real kiss already, please," another pout forming on his lips. your smile grows bigger, and you oblige, giving him a gentle kiss.
lando pulls back to look at you, and the warm smile on his face melts your heart. "thank you," he says softly, caressing your hands. you don't really know why he's thanking you to be honest; for the kiss or for the honest words. "you don't have to thank me," you say, placing a quick peck on his lips. "i'll always be here for you, no matter what," another peck, "and i'll always be proud of you," another one, "no matter what, my pretty boy."
lando's heart has never felt this warm. in fact, his entire body feels warm right now, overwhelmed by the love he's receiving. "god, what did i do to deserve you?" he asks with a sweet and calm voice, clearly feeling better. "i'm truly, madly, deeply in love with you."
"i know you did not just quote a one direction song," you both laugh, and lando groans, hiding his face behind your hands, feeling a bit embarrassed. "it's cute," you move your hands to look at him. "i'm truly, madly, deeply in love with you too," you say with a hint of teasing in your voice, but you absolutely mean it. a big smile forms on lando's face, and you run your hands through his hair to pull him into a tender kiss.
lando's heart feels lighter, your sweet words and touch washing away all the negative thoughts for the night. if you have to repeat every single word you said to him tomorrow and the day after – every day, you will do it, again and again. lando knows it, and he has never felt so thankful.
______________________________________________
masterlist
#lando norris x reader#f1 x reader#f1 fluff#f1 imagine#lando norris#lando norris fluff#f1#lando norris angst#f1 angst#f1 drabble#f1 fanfic#ln4 fluff#ln4 imagine#ln4 x reader
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